The Thief
by wintergrew
Summary: The offer the Grand Wizard gave Craig was very simple: Steal back the Stick of Truth from the High Elf Kingdom and in turn his friend could return from banishment. A very loose adaptation/inspired by the fantasy lore and backstories the kids set up for themselves in Stick of Truth. (Cross-posted from AO3. Plot based story, but includes Creek)
1. Prologue

The Kingdom of Kupa Keep was, technically speaking, Craig's homeland.

It was the human wasteland that he was physically tied to, professing his half hearted loyalty by default. It was the largest and most significant of the human kingdoms, with a military might only rivaled by that of the High Elf Kingdom in the Great Forest. The capital of Kupa Keep was one of the largest cities in all of Zaron, with a large, overbearing castle for the ruling family. Although the royals were the official rulers of the land, much of Kupa Keep was overseen by a Grand Wizard said to be the most powerful human, if not being, in all of Zaron.

However, the city and it's towering castle itself was not where Craig was raised. Growing up, stories of the city's might were just as foreign to him as if they were from any other kingdom within Zaron. Afterall, he was born a peasant. _His_ world was entirely made up of Sundorham, a small farming village with a population of less than 200 people, located on the very southeastern outskirts of the kingdom. It was a several day walk from the city, though to him it always seemed much further.

Still, he didn't mind his life in Sundorham at the time. It was uneventful and full of backbreaking work, sure, but even as a small child Craig didn't mind the boring life. The land was all owned by Kupa Keep, so the farmlands were shared amongst the farmers while the houses and small handful of other businesses, such as the inn, were all in close proximity dead center of the land. They had a single doctor, but he was also a farmer out of necessity, only helping with health when required. They had only minimal commerce, mainly relying on traveling merchants for required goods.

Virtually everyone in the village woke up at the first rooster's crow and worked on the fields until it was dusk. The biggest concerns in life were tending to the harvest-always making sure there would be enough for winter, especially after the kingdom came and took their ration away. It was really only their presence that reminded them that they were actually a part of the Kingdom of Kupa Keep, which naturally wasn't exactly the most pleasant reminder. Sure, they had merchants and other travelers pass by and stay at their small inn, but otherwise they were their own self-sustaining remote piece of land forgotten by the rest of Zaron.

It was a very quiet but happy life, living on the farm with his parents and sister. Craig's mother had been the daughter of a respected nobleman in Kupa but gave up her life to marry his father. She was completely and utterly disowned from her family but she always said that she never regretted her decision. She claimed that she preferred the quiet life and fresh air of the countryside to the crowded, filthy life in the city.

She didn't have the stereotypical noblewoman air about her but instead was a very down to earth woman who could be harsh and strong when she needed to be. She worked on the farm and tended to the house the same as any peasant-born woman and earned the respect of the village to be treated as such. From her noble days, she only kept an orange potassium feldspar pendant. It wasn't of any great value, she insisted, and was only a simple dull orange stone, but it had been a family heirloom, one she always proudly wore.

The only other trait that may have made her stand out in terms of her noble background was that she was educated, rendering nearly one of the only literate people of the village. Despite her husband's protests, she taught Craig and his sister how to read as well, teaching them by writing letters with a stick into the dirt. They had to be careful, however. Teaching peasant serfs to read was strictly punishable by law.

At about age 6, his little sister Patricia hoped to use her recently acquired literacy to find a path for herself far away from the village. Unlike Craig, she wasn't content with the quiet, uneventful life of a farmer. She hoped to make her way in the city, perhaps using her estranged bloodline as leverage to marry back into nobility. Despite her dainty stature that was small for her age, she was full of energy and life, wanting the life of a socialite-one who got to attend the grand parties in the castle, rub elbows with the throne, have _fun_ in life.

Craig would catch her on the fields with a scarecrow pretending it was King Stuart, to whom she would gracefully curtsy and thank for the gracious invitation to his grand ball. She would then thank the Grand Wizard, for he made the beautiful gown she wore from his powerful magic. After the formalities were over, she would gossip away on the dance floor with the two young princesses who she claimed as her two best friends.

Craig didn't think much of her fantasies beyond finding them foolish and unrealistic. Everyone knew that King Stuart and Crown Prince Kevin were useless drunks who mostly sat around indulging themselves. The kingdom was functionally run by the Grand Wizard, a man who had a very ruthless reputation, definitely not the sort to use his magic to make dresses for peasant girls. Sure, Tricia was a pretty little girl who would probably grow up to be a beautiful young woman with her strawberry blonde hair and emerald green eyes, but a peasant is a peasant. Of course, when he pointed this out to his sister, she merely complained to their parents who in turn complained back to Craig.

Craig, even at a very young age, viewed himself as a very practical person. He was a peasant in a small village where the majority of the population, including his father, had family lineage that could be traced back to Sundorham hundreds of years. He figured it was his obligation to be content with the farm life because, chances are, it was all he was going to be able to get.

"Do you ever lighten up?" his friend Clyde had asked him when he pointed that out while working together on the fields.

Clyde was one of the few boys his age in his village and was also one of few who, like his mother, wasn't born in Sundorham. His father was a merchant who traveled with his family far across many kingdoms selling leather boots and shoes, seeing far more of Zaron than most royalty could ever dream of. However, after the death of his wife in a tragic accident, Clyde's father found himself unwilling to travel and instead took up life as a farmer. The decision, when they first arrived, led to a lot of distrust-Merchants were of a higher social standing in Kupa and he didn't have a reason to be tied to this village like Craig's mother did. Still, Clyde and his father were very friendly sorts and eventually found themselves becoming one with the rest of them.

Clyde had also become Craig's best friend.

"You mean stop actually being realistic?" Craig asked, putting his bag of sprouts aside. "Let's go through this from the top. We live on farmland owned by the royalty in Kupa Keep. Kupa Keep needs crops to sustain their government for, you know, food. They have _us_ live _here_ so that we can provide that food for them. In turn, they get their knights to protect us from the elves, barbarians, orcs, dragons, or even other human kingdoms in Zaron. It's a machine, and this is the role we are a part of. Simple."

"I think I wanna do what _I_ want and not what Kupa Keep forces me to do," Clyde scoffed. Clyde wasn't the smartest person he knew and was very average in appearance with short, mousey brown hair, but what he lacked in those ways he made up in drive in a way that reminded him quite a bit of his sister. However, unlike his sister who was thoroughly deluded into believing that some nobleman would marry a peasant girl like her, Clyde's intended get-out scheme was more based on fraud, more sneaking around and working his way up to a fortune. He even talked about the idea of piracy.

"Kupa is the kingdom were we technically live, and I don't have any real reason to hate it. They take a ration of our crops, but we always have more than enough that it doesn't really matter. They own our land, but we live on it okay enough. Yeah, the King's a drunk asshole, but none of this has really impacted _my_ life for the worse, so I don't see why I should, you know, care."

It became a topic the two did their best to avoid whenever possible.

And so the days went by in his quiet village. Season after season, harvest after harvest until Craig reached his early teen years. As such, especially being the only son, he was expected to take up more and more responsibility on their farm. He could no longer get away with wasting time on the field with Clyde, playing more than actually planting. He was expected to be focused, expected to dig up potatoes until his hands bled. When their small thachet house came apart, Tricia was expected to collect the replacement wood while Craig had the new duty of fixing the house himself.

As Tricia grew, her desire to leave the village grew stronger. She did her best to avoid having to work on the fields, so she instead took it upon herself to help at the village inn. She began to speak to more and more outsiders passing by, hearing more and more about the outside world. Hearing their stories, hearing the state of Kupa Keep, her hero worship of the upper echelons of Kupa society waned away almost overnight. She had grown more jaded, more cynical than she had any right to. The loss of her innocence upset Craig on some level, though he would never admit it.

Craig too started to realize that life as a peasant serf wasn't as easy and simple as he thought. At night he'd lay down onto his hard, bug-infested hay mattress after a hard day's work of harvesting, every inch of his body aching. His sister shared the bed with him, often kicking him in her sleep. Like most peasants, they also kept their livestock indoors at night, which one of the sheep had taken a liking to chewing his hair. He didn't like to fantasize about impossible things, but in moments like that he couldn't help but wonder what sort of bed the King of Kupa Keep slept in.

"Have you heard the High Elf King has declared war on Kupa?" Tricia asked him one morning as they dug up potatoes. Or rather, _he_ was. She was mostly just watching. It was late fall and there was a fear that frost was imminent, leading it to be of the utmost importance to harvest the potatoes as quickly as possible. Craig had asked her to help him instead of helping at the inn, though in the end she mostly just chatted away.

"At this time of year?" Craig asked skeptically yet uninterested as he continued to dig up a potato. It was rotten. So many this year were. He sighed and tossed it aside.

"Apparently King Stuart is on his deathbed. I mean he was always useless, but Prince Kevin is considered even more inept than he is. Supposedly, there is talk that Princess Kenny is going to challenge him to a duel for the throne which could lead to instability in the kingdom. The High Elf wants to take advantage of our instability and-"

"Yeah, but that's far as hell away from us. None of that dumb kingdom stuff ever affects us at all," Craig continued to dig. His shovel had broken a while back and their family hadn't been able to afford him a new one.

"It'll affect us when the knights come in demanding double the amount of our crops for the war effort."

Craig paused.

"Aren't we always at war?" Craig broke his pause to continue digging. He had a small rock jammed into his finger that was probably bleeding, but his hands were so caked in dirt that he didn't want to attempt to get it out.

"Yeah, I mean we'll have fights with the barbarians or some lone orc invasion, but we haven't had a full on _war_ since we wiped out the Dark Kingdom a while back. I mean anyway, the High Elf Kingdom is different than any of those. According to a bard that passed through, they got war technology that us humans could only dream of. Plus they got _magic_. Like, _all of them_ not just some lame old fat wizard who uses his powers as an excuse to be an asshole. _Apparently_ , the Grand Wizard _wants_ to go at war with the High Elves because he's convinced that he's the most powerful being in Zaron, on account of having the Stick of Truth and all. The elves have been trying to war for ages in order to get it back. King Stuart was pretty much the only thing holding the peace, probably because he likes elven wine too much."

"Now I know you're wrong," Craig rolled his eyes, "Everyone knows the Stick of Truth is an old fairytale."

"No it's not! It's true!" Tricia pouted, "How do you think the Grand Wizard was able to completely wipe out the Dark Kingdom so easily? I'll explained it to you again: The Stick is the last remnant of an magic ancient elven tree that was destroyed by a dragon or something. Anyway, it's said that the tree was the source of all the magic in Zaron, so even a stick of it is so full of magic that it grants the wielder unlimited power. All the Grand Wizard had to do was use it and then strip all the Army of Darkness's power away."

"Then why wouldn't he just destroy the elves with the Stick then? Or for that matter, why would the elves fight someone with that sort of power?"

" _Obviously,_ you can't use an _elven_ stick to wipe out the elves," Tricia declared as if it were common knowledge, "And like I said, the House of McCormick liked to maintain the peace. Things the Grand Wizard _could_ do are stifled, so that's why the immanent death of the king is kinda a big deal."

"Okay, say that it's true, how would _you_ know any of this?" Craig asked instinctively rubbing his face out of annoyance, unintentionally getting dirt all over it. He groaned as he used the sleeve of his equally brown tunic to wipe it off.

"I actually talk to the passing travelers, unlike _you_ who likes to pretend like the outside world doesn't exist," she retorted.

"Sorry that I don't like to listen to gossip from drunk travelers who like to make a fool out of gullible peasant kids."

"If you don't believe me, just wait and see when the kingdom sends it lackeys here. Ask them if we're at war," she huffed, standing up to leave. Craig didn't mind her going at that point, she wasn't being of any help anyway.

"Fine," he answered.

"Fine!"

" _Fine."_

"We're also going to need that barrel over there," the knight announced the following week. The knight was someone Craig had never seen before, a man who held himself with class and stature in a way that made it obvious he thought of himself as important. The knight had noticeably flinched when he entered his family's small, filthy thachet house, their old cow mooing in the center. It was an attitude that already made Craig hate him.

Craig's father stepped forward. He was an astonishingly tall and balding man which within the village, gave him a strong physical presence. Still, his brown peasant rags next to the shiny iron uniform of the knight stripped much of this. His father easily towered over the knight, yet somehow next to this knight Craig had never seen him seem so small. "Sir, the barley harvest was very weak this year. You've already taken more than double-"

"Do not defy me, peasant," the knight interrupted, "Every day the High Elves harken closer and closer to the outskirts of the Kingdom of Kupa Keep while our Great King lay dying. I would have thought that even someone of _your_ status would understand the concept of sacrifice for the greater good."

"The 'greater good' is _my family_ starving this winter?" his father hissed, his restraint fading away at the knight's insinuation, "This is ridiculous. We fought other wars, I don't remember receiving this sort of treatment when Kupa put an end to the Dark Kingdom. You have no damn right to starve out _my_ family, my kids!"

"Perhaps we should take one of them off your hands then?" the knight smiled wickedly, "The boy here seems old enough to be useful in labor and the girl…now _she's_ a very pretty one, isn't she? You would be fully compensated, of course. "

The statement was enough to make Craig's heart turn cold, as if ice had gotten in his veins. He could see his sister in the corner of his eye shuddering, instinctively grabbing their mother's skirt.

"Take the barley and _get out_ ," Craig's mother responded, her tone collected yet full of venom. Unlike his father, the presence of the knight did not make her seem smaller. She hadn't grown cold like Craig did. He could only see fire in her eyes.

The knight didn't answer, he merely laughed a hearty laugh and went outside their doorway to get some of his men to help cart their stored food away. The other knights had visited all the other houses, the rations far more numerous than Craig had ever seen be taken away. It was if the entire Kupa Keep army had come to seize everything they had.

"You'll thank us when we win the war and save your sad, sorry lives," a knight called out from his horse as they dashed away, the village's crops trailing behind on small wooden wagons. They were all outside of their houses as they watched the wagons disappear of the horizon. Craig could hear some of them crying.

Though before long, the people in the village slowly got back to work. It was all they _could_ do.

"You have to be careful with what you say, Thomas," his mother warned, her voice harsh, "I know those types. They _will_ take our children away if they feel like it. I remember seeing it."

"Why _didn't_ you let them take me?" Craig interjected, "That would have been the practical thing to do."

Craig didn't want to leave his village and he most certainly didn't want to become a slave. He wanted to stay with his family, stay with Clyde. Yet, he didn't want him and his family to starve to death. Of course, the idea of Tricia being taken away, his little sister who actually _wanted_ a future? That terrified him to the root of his core. Yet, if _he_ had gone, his family would probably be compensated enough to give all of them a chance.

He would have gone instead of his sister for his family if he had to.

"Craig don't be ridiculous," his mother scolded, "Family is the most important thing we have. We're not selling anyone."

Craig looked at his mother. She was a very tall, very beautiful woman. Much too beautiful to be a peasant, Craig thought. He could easily imagine what she may have looked like in beautiful gowns, her long blonde hair done up in accordance to whatever the fashion trends were. The life she _had_ but gave up. Now she was a lowly farmer's wife, draped in brown rags, her hair haphazardly tied to keep out of her face. Her feldspar pendant around her neck that she usually had concealed under her gown, when visible, looked very out of place. The soft hands of a noblewoman long gone, instead filthy and calloused like a peasant. Being a woman who gave up everything for this family, it made sense to Craig that she would think this way.

"We're not going to _starve_ anyway, right?" Tricia piped in. She was still visibly shaken from the whole ordeal, yet still tried to bring forth her usual upbeat tone.

"I don't know," their father said breaking his silence, melancholy in his voice. He took one look at his two children and walked back into their small, sullen house.

"I'm sure the war won't last long," his mother tried to offer apologetically. She turned to follow her husband inside. "Perhaps when it is over, they will give us some of our supplies back and then some."

Tricia kicked the dirt in front of her. "I hate that I was right," she said under her breath. Craig could see a single tear fall down her face as she turned towards the inn, hoping that her favorite place would clear her mind. Craig was left alone, unable to think.

The winter came and, as expected, all of Sundorham struggled. A good number of people died, particularly the very young and very old, but Craig and his family had survived as did Clyde and his father. They didn't prosper, however. Like everyone, they struggled to find enough food, Craig could notice that everyone around him visibly lost a considerable amount of weight. While in the previous year they were worried that Tricia would outgrow her clothes before they could get cloth for new ones, she seemed to shrink in her little dresses.

King Stuart had died that winter. The former Crown Prince Kevin had abdicated the throne as soon as he saw that Princess Kenny had the Wizard's favor. That, at the very least, stopped a civil war. Still, it meant the Kingdom of Kupa Keep was now officially being run by a young girl no older than Craig. Of course it was what the Wizard would want, it helped him maintain power. The war with the elves would proceed.

Still, talks about the specifics of war disinterested Craig. He didn't care, he only wanted the war to be over. He wanted the knights to stop stripping his village to the bare bones. The battles had all thus far remained outside of Kupa Keep, but the death of King Stuart had the elves pressing harder than ever to get within the Kingdom's borders. It was all politics of faraway lands that had no real concern to Craig. He just wanted to have a full meal again.

"Can you believe the elves are so cruel, attacking our kingdom when we are still in mourning?" his fellow villagers would say. He shrugged. War was war, and he wanted to be focused on the coming harvest, hoping it would provide enough food for winter. This time, he would be prepared for the higher rationing percentages. He wouldn't see his sister shrivel away.

"You know, our village is actually the closest to the elven border," another had said.

"The knights will protect us," Craig brought himself to say, "That's why we give them so much." He did believe that the knights were capable fighters, if anything. He had seen with his own the knights slaying a rogue dragon that threatened the village when he was a small child. The knights were callous and arrogant, but they did serve their purpose. The knights were ecstatic that they got real action out in their boring post, while the village was saved and had meat to last them an entire winter. It was amazing how war changed their perspective on knights so much.

As August came, so did the time to harvest the first of the barley. Craig hated harvesting barley almost as much as potatoes, the large heavy scythe required made his shoulders ache. Earlier crops had been harvested enough to curb starvation, but not enough to put on weight, especially with the military seizing so much of it. Barley, however, was a big staple crop in their diet, providing bread and ale, the latter they could also sell in the inn.

He, his mother, and Clyde were in charge of harvesting the barley at the very edge of Sundorham, at the furthest reaches of the field. Clyde claimed he didn't mind harvesting barley but watching him, Craig could see that he was terrible at it, haphazardly swinging his scythe nearly hitting Craig multiple times. Both their fathers were overseeing the grazing cattle today while Craig's sister, who at about ten, was considered old enough to begin training to be the next innkeeper. Working on the field, he couldn't help but envy her.

"Clyde, pay attention," Craig's mother had scolded his friend as he swung around the scythe in a dangerous fashion. She was sitting on the ground, taking her break. The harvest was plentiful this year, much to their relief. Still, it meant much more work for them.

"Sorry ma'am," Clyde blushed.

"We should hide some of this," Craig announced, "We don't want Kupa to come in and claim they need even more because we're having a good harvest."

"We would need to be careful," his mother warned, "Hiding food is a crime punishable by death."

"Yeah, we should have enough to survive regardless," Clyde announced, swinging his scythe around with only minimally more care, "We should be safe this winter."

"No one in this village is safe with you swinging that around," Craig retorted.

"Oh yeah?" Clyde grinned, "Then watch this!" He lifted up the scythe around in a circle, cutting all the barley unevenly around him in full circles like a windmill propeller. To finish, he swung the blade directly into the ground.

 _BOOM!_

A noise went off the second as he planted his scythe directly into the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Craig asked, straightening up.

"That wasn't me was it?" Clyde asked. It was way too loud to be from the scythe.

"No way, you're not that strong," Craig instead answered.

"Wanna go check it out?" Clyde smirked.

"Boys, stay here," Craig's mother stood up suddenly. Despite that, Craig couldn't help but instinctively follow her.

"Craig, I said stay here," she scolded. Craig could see that her tone and expression was dead serious. There was _fear_ in her eyes.

Craig grimaced, "If something happened, I think I should be able to see what."

"If you think it's dangerous, I'll stay here, ma'am," Clyde announced, plopping himself on the ground.

Craig stretched his body upwards to try and clearly look to the village towards the horizon. From what he could see, the village appeared fine, though he could see people exiting their houses and farmers on the field running towards it to see the commotion of whatever happened.

"I don't get it," Craig said.

"Shh!" his mother hissed, her hand put on his chest, holding him back. Craig was startled but he obeyed, standing in silence.

Then he heard it. A very soft sound in the distance, coming from far beyond the other side of the village. It started very soft, making Craig first wonder if he was imagining it. Once he realized he wasn't, although he could hear _something_ he didn't know what it was. Slowly, it grew louder until he could finally make it out. It was the sound of music. It was a very sweet melody, like something out of a dream. The type of music that never graced a village like Sundorham. Gradually, as it got louder and louder, Craig felt himself drawn to it.

"Music?" Clyde asked. His mother's face turned ghostly pale.

"Boys, I need you to run away as far as you can. Out of Sundorham, to anywhere that will take you," she very suddenly instructed.

"What are you talking about?" Craig asked. The music was beautiful, Craig wanted to go _towards_ it.

"I'm going to try and find Patricia, and then I will be right behind you. But even if I'm not, I need you two boys to keep running."

"What? That doesn't make sense," Craig objected, "It's just some weird music. If it's something to worry about, we should come with you to find her. And what about dad?"

"Craig, listen to me."

The music grew louder and louder as his mother began to run back towards the village. Clyde stood up, unsure of whether he should run away or follow her. Craig on the other hand, made up his mind and ran after his mother. None of this made sense. Why was she so terrified?

Another boom. The ground shook forcing Craig to stumble, nearly losing his balance and falling to the ground. The music still grew louder.

From the corner of his eyes he saw bright balls of light of many colors flying up in the air. At first he wondered if they were birds. He looked to the sky so he could see clearly.

"Arrows?" he asked himself.

Not just any arrows, but fame-lit arrows, lit in unnatural colors that could only mean they were magic-infused and coming straight for Sundorham. The arose from the horizon, no signs of people who may have sent them. They were very fast, yet somehow it felt as if everything was moving in slow motion for Craig. As if his mind needed more time to register what he was seeing.

Still, in a matter of seconds, the arrows landed. They hit fields and buildings, instantly causing whatever they hit to go up into flames. People hit by the arrows dropped instantly to the ground. Even from far away he could hear their screams.

Craig's eyes grew wide. His village. His home. Tricia.

"Craig, get _out of here!"_ his mother demanded, stopping in her place. She grabbed her son tightly, fingers digging into his shoulders.

"Tricia is in there!" Craig yelled. He could see the inn in the distance, already catching flames. He could see figures running out, but it was much to far away for him to distinguish anyone.

"I'm going to find her, but I need you and Clyde to run."

"Mom, what's happening?" Craig's voice cracked.

"The war," she told him, "The elves."

"But the knights...they're supposed to-"

"This means they were probably all _killed_ , Craig," her grip tightened as she shook him, "I know you think knights are all powerful beings, but the elves are dangerous."

"I don't...I should help-"

"Craig, for Clyde. Run away. Find people who can get help. I promise, I'll try to get your sister, but I won't let you follow me into that. Hopefully your father has already run away. I need you to get to safety for me." Her grip tightened, but somehow was less angry than before. The music was at full blast, making her harder to hear.

"Leaving you?" Craig asked, his voice cracking. He still wasn't able to process what was happening.

His mother let go of her son's shoulders and quickly reached to her necklace as she took it off, careful to not break the chain. She placed it in his hand and squeezed his fist around it.

"Craig, you escaping is the best thing you can do to help us. You were willing to be sent away for us, so now is your chance."

This couldn't be happening. Craig wasn't one for showing outward emotion, let alone crying, but his vision clouded and he could feel tears escape down his cheeks. The village structures were made of cheap wood, it would easily burn with normal fire, let alone magic infused fire. This couldn't be happening. Fire circled the village, the barley they were trying to harvest immediately disintegrating. Flames grew and grew, and would eventually reach where he and his mother stood. All of their hard work. All of their food.

Craig had never seen so much fire. It couldn't be happening.

Another boom.

With that, his mother shoved him hard in the opposite direction, knocking him to the ground. She ran faster towards the village, though the path to it becoming more and more engulfed in flames. He could smell the smoke, the winds blowing it towards him.

"Run and don't look back!" she yelled.

Craig could see another blanket of arrows heading for the village from the sky. He couldn't watch. As if his body moved on its own, he stood back up and ran, running away from the village. He ran faster than he knew possible, his legs feeling like they were flying. His fist clenched his mother's necklace as if his life depended on it.

He approached Clyde again. He was standing, frozen in place as if in shock. His one hand covered his mouth and tears were running down his face, barely noticing his friend approaching him. Craig didn't want to know what he was seeing. With his free hand he yanked Clyde's arm as he passed him, forcing him to follow. Clyde wordlessly joined in running.

Clyde was much slower than Craig, but Craig refused to let go.

Another boom. Craig ran even faster, nearly causing Clyde to yelp and nearly trip behind him.

Craig's mind went blank as he ran, neither him nor Clyde saying anything, only huffing. All he could think of was running. He didn't know where he was going, but he knew he had to get _somewhere_. He wasn't even sure when he had run far enough to no longer hear the booms or the music.

They ran for hours. Although every inch of his body begged him to stop or at least slow down, he wouldn't. It was hard to breathe, but he carried on. He only slowed when Clyde's endurance failed to match his pace, as he refused to let him go.

After an amount of time impossible for Craig to tell, it became dusk. The land that which they were running on were all flat grassland, all looking the same. Although Craig kept them going beyond his limits, the adrenaline and their endurance waned more and more. Eventually, Clyde abruptly stopped, the force causing Craig to topple forward, nearly dislocating his arm.

The boys huffed and wheezed. They were too out of breath to speak, both collapsing onto the soft ground as they tried to get their bearings. Craig's lungs ached even more than his sore legs. His vision was still cloudy, but he was unsure if it was from tears, sweat, dizziness or a combination of the three. He squeezed his eyes shut, seeing stars behind his eyelids, as he wiped a layer of sweat off his forehead. He tried to breathe, trying to make his heart stop pounding as though it were about to jump out of his chest. He desperately needed water, but he had none. His canteen he had attached to his belt was empty long before the invasion.

"Cr-Craig," he could hear Clyde gasp for air. Craig's own lungs gasped even harder, rendering him unable to respond.

He was aware that his shoulder was also in pain. Perhaps Clyde _did_ dislocate it.

A sudden memory made Craig sit up suddenly, his eyes shooting open. He opened his left fist, making sure his mother's necklace was still there. It was. It was covered in sweat and leaving indentations on his palm, but it was there. He didn't drop it. A feeling of relief cloaked him.

His eyes shut again and he collapsed back down, unconscious from exhaustion before his head hit the ground.

When Craig awoke he was sure he was drowning. Water was engulfing his face and entering his mouth, spilling up into his nose. Had he fallen into the river just beyond Sundorham? His father had always warned him about standing on the unstable rocks of its bank.

"Craig…" a cracked, dry voice called out to him.

Craig opened his eyes, choking on the water Clyde was trying to force down his throat.

"What the hell!" Craig sat up suddenly, his voice unrecognizably dry and cracky. His throat burned.

"Craig!" Clyde dropped his jug of water and hugged him, tears spilling down his face. "You wouldn't wake up! I thought you were going to die. You scared the hell out of me!"

Did Clyde rescue him from the river?

His vision began to focus, though the lower half of his vision was obscured by Clyde's shoulder, as he hugged him tightly, sobbing into him. They weren't among the trees surrounding the river bank. They were among a grass field and-

The fire. Red, blue, green, yellow, pink flames that only magic could create, flying in on a blanket of arrows. The screams from his village, becoming engulfed by them. His mother running towards it, telling him to run.

His eyes instantly flooded with tears, spilling down his already wet face. He didn't sob like Clyde or make _any_ sound, only silently letting the tears fall. He gently wrapped his arms around his friend, lightly accepting the hug as he stared off into the distance.

"What are we going to do?" Clyde sobbed as he eventually pulled away. He was always a big crybaby.

Craig stretched his shoulders and back and could feel all of his bones crack. The muscles in his legs were extremely sore from running for hours without break and his shoulder still hurt. He tried to inconspicuously wipe his tears on his sleeve. It was then he realized he was still tightly gripping his mother's pendant.

"We need to help the village! P-People may still be trapped there. We have to find our families," Craig declared, his voice still hoarse. He tried to stand up but he felt like a baby deer on wobbly legs. Clyde reached to his canteen on the ground and offered it to Craig, a few drops still in there. Craig swallowed it all as fast as he could.

"Are you serious Craig?" Clyde's voice shook, slightly bewildered.

"Of course! Sundorham is in danger, Clyde. We have to help them!" Craig took his mother's pendant and carefully opened the clasp and put it around his neck, concealing it under his dull brown tunic.

"Craig, I don't think Sundorham exists anymore."

"I mean they probably burned down all our buildings, but maybe we could help put out the fire in the crops. I mean the _people_ -"

"Craig, _you're_ the logical one. Do you really think the elves would use magical fire arrows that you could just _put out_?"

"Well we should still meet up with the others who-"

"Craig! There were like a bajillion arrows! Straight for the town! The only reason we didn't get hit and killed is because we were at the part of the field that was furthest reach from their approach possible. Otherwise _we'd_ be dead!" Clyde's voice cracked with the last word as a new batch of tears ran down his face.

Craig didn't believe him. His mother said that she was going to grab Tricia and run. She was going to catch up to them. Craig and Clyde just ran haphazardly straight, as far as possible from the village.

Craig had never left Sundorham before.

"We should meet up with the others in another village," Craig continued, ignoring what Clyde had said, "Do you know where we are?"

Clyde sighed, knowing better than to argue with Craig's stubbornness. His young childhood days traveling as a merchant with his parents had taught him navigation skills. He wiped his face of his tears. "We went west, and the capital was northwest from Sundorham. There's other small villages like our own that are technically closer, but that is guessing that they weren't attacked too. Plus, poor villages aren't going to want to take in young kids of no relation to them. I think the capital is the only place we _can_ go."

"How far?"

"I would guess maybe a day or two. That's if we are going in a straight shot, which we probably won't. We _could_ end up hopelessly lost forever," Clyde sniffed.

"It's the best we can do," Craig stretched some more, trying to get used to standing on the weight of his sore legs. His skin felt hot, and he figured he had a fever, probably from a mix of overexertion and stress. He wiped off the excess tears from his face. He wasn't crying anymore.

"Even if others survived, a lot of people died, Craig. Our village is destroyed. We will probably never go back."

"Where did you get the water?" Craig asked, dodging Clyde's statement and motioning to the jug his friend was holding. They both always carried jugs of water with them, but he knew there was no way Clyde would have a full bottle to force down his throat.

"There's a pond nearby," Clyde's sighed again, knowing Craig was hopeless, "I went looking to see if I could find anything while you were passed out."

"Take me there, and then we'll go. Walking this time."

"I want to take a break today. I think we both should, given what just hap-"

"No."

Wordlessly, Clyde resigned to his friend, picked up his jug, and started leading Craig. He was also limping from his own sore legs.

The place Clyde led them to was a very small pond that was probably not of the most sanitary water, but Craig didn't care. His thirst found him painfully picking up his pace, running directly into the meter deep water, splashing his face and drinking as much as he could possibly force down his throat. Clyde sat down at the bank, silently refilling his jug. Craig could see from the corner of his eye that he was sniffling again.

Craig floated on his back, ran his fingers through his wet black hair, and wished he could stay there forever. He knew once he got out, he would be annoyed how soaked his clothes were, but right then it didn't matter. Tricia and him both loved to swim in the river back home. They didn't get to often, most times they went to the river they only had time to stay there to use it for practical purposes, so swimming was a rare excursion. The sudden wave of nostalgia both cheered him up and made his heart ache.

Tricia was okay. She had to be.

Craig stood up in the pond, letting the water drip off his clothes. He was right, the feeling of wet clothes clinging to his skin did piss him off. Still, Clyde and him had to go.

"How do we figure what way to go?" Craig asked.

Clyde looked up at his friend tiredly. "The sun rises in the east. Given the sun's position and the time of year, it's probably about ten or eleven. We ran almost exactly straight west for hours, probably going what would be a day's walk by foot, so we need to go north, which is that way," he pointed off into the distance.

"How sure are you?"

"I'm not sure of anything, Craig. We don't have a map or compass and _could_ be wandering forever, Zaron is huge. _Kupa Keep_ is huge."

"You're going to need to do better than that."

Clyde sighed, "Stars are a better navigation."

"So we'll head north and once it gets dark out and we're about to go to sleep you can try and better our positioning."

Craig adjusted his necklace, making sure it was fully secure and safe around his neck, and started off in the direction Clyde had pointed. He could hear Clyde scramble up in the grass and try to follow him.

For the most part, the Kingdom of Kupa Keep was barren grasslands that all looked exactly the same. It was good for walking but very easy to get lost in. It was great land for farming, which was the main industry in Kupa, but where there weren't settlements there wasn't much food or vegetation.

"We're going to starve to death," Clyde whined several hours in, allowing himself to suddenly drop onto the ground.

"We're not going to starve to death, Clyde," Craig squatted down next to him. He figured that today they could take breaks.

"At least I'll be able to be with both my parents again," Clyde's voice cracked, tears pooling in his eyes again.

"Your dad is probably fine."

"I saw the flaming arrows. I saw them hit people. It was too far to tell, but I saw a grown man with hair like his get hit straight through the torso and fall," Clyde huffed, making himself hysterical.

"There are a lot of brown haired men in our village."

Clyde didn't answer. He merely continued to sob.

That night, they slept in a small thicket of tall grass that would hopefully conceal them from any potential elves or bandits. Craig had found a few dandelions on their journey for them to eat, but it wasn't nearly enough to fill them up. The even bigger problem was that they had ran out of water.

It wasn't a completely clear night, but Clyde had determined, before crying himself to sleep, that they should go slightly more east the next day. Craig didn't know how good Clyde's navigation skills actually were, but he figured that was their best bet.

"The capital isn't going to let orphaned peasant refugees just live there, you know," Clyde told him the next morning as they made their descent, "Unless you want slave labor."

"Well, good thing we're not _orphaned_ peasant refugees then."

Clyde reached into his pocket and pulled out a small flattened round stone that reminded Craig of a coin. It was engraved with an intricate design as well as his name: Clyde.

"What's that?" Craig asked. His voice was rough, he needed more water badly.

"It's my merchant identification," Clyde explained, "It's how merchants are able to freely move across Zaron or even a specific kingdom without their residency and status being questioned. We were supposed to give it up once we moved to Sundorham and became farmers, but my dad hid ours. He told me not to tell anyone, but to keep it on me at all times."

"So?"

"So, I can say that I was just an unfortunate merchant who happened to be in Sundorham at the wrong time and managed to escape," Clyde said, looking sullenly at the stone. He squeezed it in his fist. "You should think of a cover story too."

"I won't need one," Craig announced.

"What if you're wrong?"

Craig's chest got tight.

"I'm not."

The third day it poured rain. Even growing up in a farming community that relied on rain, Craig had never been more thankful for it. The thick mud stuck to their shoes, however, making their pace much slower. Clyde ran around like a small child, trying to catch raindrops in his open mouth. Ordinarily, Craig would have teased him, but seeing him play around like his normal self made Craig smile. Probably the first time he did since their village was attacked.

The fourth day they were getting worried. It was sunny again, but their bodies were caked in mud from having been forced to sleep on the wet ground. The fatigue had also gotten to them, walking for days without any proper food. It was now double Clyde's projected time to reach the city and they hadn't even found an official road.

"Living was nice while it lasted," Clyde remarked dejectedly. He wasn't crying anymore, but his voice was weak. So different from the boisterous tone Craig was used to, even when he was crying. Perhaps he had ran out of tears.

Craig hadn't cried once since they began their trek from the pond. Still, even he was starting to feel that their journey was becoming pointless. He wasn't willing to admit that vocally, however.

Craig could feel the orange feldspar stone heavily against his skin. He wanted to go home. He wanted to collapse in his uncomfortable, bug filled straw mattress. He wanted his sister to kick him in her sleep hard enough to bruise him. He wanted the sheep to painfully yank out some of his hair right after he had finally fallen asleep again. He wanted his father to scold him to be quiet and let him sleep, even if Craig was annoyed that it wasn't his fault. He wanted his mother to wake them both up in the morning with a bowl of pottage and a side of barley bread. He wouldn't care if it was painfully watered down from their lack of food. Having her cooking again would be enough for him.

Craig's heart began to pound and his eyes grew misty. He bit his lip hard.

"Wait a second," Clyde exclaimed, his tone cautiously more upbeat.

"What?" Craig asked. He tried his best to sound natural, ignoring the newfound emotions that hit him like a wall.

"Is that-WE'RE SAVED!" Clyde yelled, running forward despite his exhaustion.

"What are you talking about?" Craig asked, his voice now of a more genuine Craig-like confusion.

"IT'S THE ROAD!" Clyde yelled, tears running down his face out of relief. He ran up the way a little more, and sure enough Craig too could see a long strip of brown dirt untouched by grass, extending seemingly infinitely in both directions. As soon as Clyde reached it, he let himself drop and lay down on it as if it were the softest mattress. In actuality, the rocky road hurt Craig's feet, especially given that the bottom of his shoes had worn holes. Still, it was something new. Craig had never seen an actual road before. Sundorham wasn't attached to one.

"I don't see the city," Craig commented.

"Well no, and we might still be far," Clyde answered, smile still on his face, "But I know this road! It connects to the capital! We just need to keep continuing down it, and eventually we'll hit it."

"Eventually?"

"I don't know how far, but we're on the right path! We're not-We're not gonna be wandering aimlessly!" Clyde continued to sob out of joy on the ground.

Craig wanted him to get up and immediately begin their trek towards the city, but decided after all they've been through to let his friend have his moment. Craig sat down on the ground next to him and looked up to the sky. He closed his eyes and took a much needed deep breath.

Before long, they began to head down the road. As luck would have it, it only took them a few hours down the road before they could see the city in the distance. At first Craig wondered if his eyes were playing cruel tricks on him, perhaps the thirst and exhaustion finally getting to him, but Clyde quickly announced that he saw it too. Or rather, screamed.

Craig knew the city was one of the largest in Zaron, surrounded by a very grand mote and intricate stone walls, the highest walls in any human territory. He had been told stories from his mother, Clyde, travelers, and even other villagers. But as a young person who had only ever seen a small village of 200, nothing could prepare him for this.

The two boys were absolutely filthy. Mud covered Craig's already brown, very cheaply made peasantly tunic and pants as well as his hands and face. He was sweaty, his shaggy black hair sticking to his forehead as if he had just finished swimming. Thirst and heat had made his lips chapped until they bled. Not to mention that he was incredibly weak from exhaustion, hunger, and thirst. Clyde was always one of the nicer dressed boys in Sundorham, given his father's comparative wealth, but even his own red tunic had gotten covered in mud and looked little better than Craig's. His own brown hair was all over the place, sticking up in every which way. Dark circles shadowed both of their eyes, giving them a zombie like appearance.

"We were unfortunate people who just happened to pass Sundorham when everything happened," Clyde instructed as they approached the gate.

"No, we're two citizens of Sundorham looking for our families and neighbors because hopefully they didn't get as pathetically lost as we did."

"You can just say you're a traveler or something. Just be sure to make up a name or whatever, in case they have a birth registry."

"Clyde, enough," Craig scolded. Still, his heart pounded. This was the moment of truth, to find his family. They were in the city, _surely_ they were. They were probably worried sick about him. The villagers would find a way to rebuild Sundorham. It would be long and hard work, but they had to.

There was only one entrance to the city, given that the place was surrounded by tall brick walls and a mote. The iron gate was equally tall and imposing, located at the end of a simple wooden bridge. The gate was closed-Kupa Keep's city didn't just let anyone in. Feeling confident that he knew what he was doing, Clyde led the way and approached the gate.

"State your business," the gatekeeper demanded. He wore simple yet expensive looking cloth clothing, clearly not a knight. Or at the very least, not the type Craig was familiar with. There were armor-clad knights all around, however, defending the entrance from anyone who tried to enter the city without permission.

Clyde reached into his pocket and tossed his stone over to the gatekeeper. "I'm Clyde, son of a merchant called Roger, and this is my friend. We're citizens of the Kingdom of Kupa Keep here to give and gather information on the state of Sundorham."

The guard laughed, "Sundorham? There isn't much 'information' about _that_ place anymore."

Craig's chest tightened. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.

The guard continued to chuckle as he closely examined the stone. After checking it out, he tossed it back to Clyde and walked over to the gate and used the lever to raise it.

"You kids are in luck," the gatekeeper said as he signaled the two towards knights, "The Grand Wizard wants any information on the attacked villages. Follow the knights here and they'll take you to where you need to go. They'll give you your answers."

Craig and Clyde were pushed along by the knights towards the city. Craig wanted to protest, to demand answers, but Clyde grabbed his arm and gave him a knowing look. A firm _"don't try it, they're going to give us answers in a few minutes anyway"_ look.

The inside of the city made Craig almost forget himself. There were more people in the square in his line of vision than he had probably seen combined in his entire life. He saw women in elegant gowns like his mother described, women in rags equivalent to that of a farming peasant. There were smells he had never smelled before, store windows full of things he had never imagined, merchants peddling goods on the street. Little children running with toys that no one in his village could ever dream of.

Of course, he couldn't stop and take any of this in. The knights pushed him and Clyde along, going at a brisk pace. They turned to a door, a tower within the great wall, and practically shoved them inside. It was dark and damp, dimly lit by torches, and contained a large staircase that they were promptly ordered to go up in. They were led it a better lit but still imposing room, containing a large candle-lit table with two other knights guarding the door.

"Sit," a knight ordered, signaling them to two chairs, each with a bowl full of water and a wet cloth, presumably for them to wipe some of the mud off their faces and hands. Clyde quickly abided while Craig sat very hesitantly. As soon as they did, the knights that had led them turned to leave. Craig shot up from his chair.

"But what about-"

"Sit down," the same knight ordered even more harshly, "Someone will be with you shortly. You should clean yourself up first."

Craig balled his hands into tight fists but he complied. He thought it was stupid. He didn't get why they had to go through hoops to get information. He didn't get how Clyde just sat still with an unreadable expression, carefully cleaning off his face and hands. Craig left his own wet rag untouched.

They sat in silence for what felt like forever until eventually a tall figure entered. He was an adult man who didn't appear to be dressed as a knight, instead wearing intricate clothes, the most notable being a striped blue cape. He appeared to be about the age of Craig's parents with jet black hair and a mustache which, despite the apparent value of his clothes, did not appear to be neatly shaven. In fact, his entire demeanor appeared to be somewhat haggard.

"Hello boys," was all he said as he entered in room and took a seat, a slight slur to his speech.

"Listen this is stupid," Craig said flatly, "We just want to know the damage that happened to Sundorham and where all the survivors are."

"Survivors?" the man asked, his voice even more obviously slurred.

"Yes you drunk asshole," Craig's heart pounded in his chest, "That's why we're here. We want to know what happened to Sundorham."

"Sundorham doesn't exist anymore, kid," he laughed, "The buildings were all burned to the ground. They say every last person, every last child was killed."

Craig froze but his heart pounded even harder. He wouldn't be surprised if the entire city heard the drum-like beats in his chest. "I don't believe you. You've _had_ to have had refugees that've escaped."

"Nope," the guard continued, "We had people check. They even got the animals. Damn magical elf fire, apparently, won't stop for anything. They say the current High Elf Queen is nasty, wanting to starve us out by killing our farms."

"I don't believe you," Craig repeated, his body physically shaking as the anger rose, "People can run away. People run away from things all the time."

"Not even the knights could outrun this magic," the man answered, his tone getting even more annoyed, "The entire battalion meant to guard them were slaughtered. Knights _everywhere_ are being slaughtered."

"How would _you_ know anything about this magic?!" Craig gritted his teeth.

Without hesitating, the man looked towards one of the candles in the center of the table that was unlit. He snapped his fingers, and from them came out a small orange flame. He brought his hand to the candle and lit it.

It was a normal flame, unlike the multi colored ones he had seen engulf his village, but it was very clear to Craig what just happened. His eyes grew wide. The man had used _magic._

Unlike with elves, the ability to wield magic was an extraordinarily rare gift for humans. Within Kupa Keep, the Grand Wizard didn't want competition. Well, he claimed that too many magic users threatened the safety of the Kingdom, but Craig never bought it. The Grand Wizard had decreed many years ago that most humans, especially commoners, who showed signs of magic ability were to immediately be imprisoned or even killed. Whenever a child turned approximately one year old, they were to be tested on their magic ability. Craig had seen them come to Sundorham, he remembered as a small child his parents waiting with fear as they tested his sister to see if she had magic ability, and the relief that she did not. He had also once seen a family in his village scream as their young child was ripped from them.

There were exceptions of course. If a person was of noble blood and only had a minor connection to magic, the Grand Wizard would have them be appointed as part of his administration. That meant this drunken man was one of them, one of the most powerful and highly appointed men in all of Kupa Keep.

"You were saying?"

Craig's heart sank. He bit his lip hard, trying to stay focused.

" _We_ escaped," Craig forced himself to say, hot tears clouding his vision, " _We_ were there!"

The man's eyebrows raised, his attention clearly more focused, almost sober. "Is that true, Clyde?" he asked.

Clyde's eyes were also damp though he tried his best not to sob, his body low in his seat. He wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve, but the tears continued to fall. Still, he swallowed hard, trying to keep an even voice. "Yes, I was there on business. With my dad. But I...he was in the heart of the city. I was on the outskirts opposite of the side they were approaching. We ran away as soon as we saw it, while everyone else ran towards the city to help. That's how we got away."

"You're how old now?"

"N-Neither of us know our exact ages, being c-commoners and all, b-but both about fourteen...sir," Clyde sniffed, his voice getting more and more unsteady, yet trying so hard to prevent it from cracking.

"And you two ran together?"

"Yes," they both said in near unison.

"And you," the man looked Craig in the face. His eyes were bloodshot, but they were attentive. "Are you a peasant? You should know we don't allow peasants into the city gates without reason. Unless, you're wanting _'work'_."

"He's not a peasant!" Clyde interjected, standing up from his chair, "He was traveling with my family. H-He's not a merchant either though but-"

"Do you have any identification?" he cut off Clyde.

"No," Craig answered. His shaking and anger had subsided. He didn't know what he was feeling anymore. He felt cold.

He realized the feeling was numbness.

"If you don't have identification or proof of not being a peasant, by Kupa Keep law you're a peasant," the man explained, a twinge of sympathy in his voice, "And if you don't have a family to claim you, you're probably gonna be sent to the _'workforce'_."

Craig blinked, but continued looking down at the wood table. He knew what he meant. The royal family outlawed slavery, but the Grand Wizard had it in everything but name. It was exactly what the knight offered to send him to. Back then, his family would have gotten a lot of money, but now it would be for nothing.

Not that it mattered anymore.

He could see his sister, working in the inn that morning. Working and hoping she would meet someone who could take her far away. She wanted to adventure, to see the world. The little girl who played pretend that the scarecrow was the king. She was going to have a future, she said.

He had scoffed at her.

He blinked again. This time when he did, tears splashed out of his eyes, down his cheeks.

"Your friend is free to enter the city, though," he said, his voice suddenly turning calm as if to comfort him.

His mother said she'd catch up to them. Yet, she gave him her necklace before he ran. If she really thought she'd be able to catch up, why would she give it to him? Did she want to be with her daughter as the fire consumed them?

"Wait no!" Clyde scrambled up as the two knights came forward and approached them. One grabbed Clyde by the arm, pulling him back.

His mother never had hope of finding their father again, Craig realized. She didn't mention him meeting up with them.

They were gone.

Deep down, he already knew it the second he turned away from his mother and started running. He just wouldn't allow himself to believe it.

"HE CAN READ!" Clyde screamed, "If he was a peasant he couldn't read!"

Craig briefly snapped out of his head.

"Really?" the man asked. Craig could swear he saw his eyes light up.

"Yes," Craig answered softly, his voice soulless. He slowly looked up.

The man rummaged through a satchel he carried and pulled out a scroll. He handed it towards Craig. "Read this."

Craig's hands were shaking, but he carefully opened it.

"By Decree of the Grand Wizard Eric Theodore Cartman, acting Head of State to Her Highness the Royal Princess Kenny," Craig read carefully but fluently through his cracking voice, "In retaliation of the destruction of Kingdom lands Sundorham, Broken Arrow, and Heatherworth, the Kingdom of Kupa Keep declares absolute war on the High Elf Kingdom and seeks the death of the current reigning High King and Queen."

Two other villages. Sundorham's destruction wasn't even an isolated incident. It was just one of many casualties. How many more would there be?

The man looked at him with big eyes and slowly took back the scroll. "Good enough for me," he announced.

Craig didn't even notice that Clyde was let go until he tightly hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder. Craig instinctively gave a light hug back. Clyde felt more relief than he did.

"Lord Marsh, with all due respect, literacy alone is not a sufficient factor in determining lineage," a knight objected.

The man-Lord Marsh's-face grew increasingly softer, his bloodshot eyes full of a look Craig couldn't describe. "I said it's enough," he said, his voice in a very demanding tone.

"You prolly just feel bad for him because he kinda looks like your dead son," the other knight sneered, "The Grand Wizard won't like that."

Without hesitating, the man with a quick wave of his hand ejected a bright light of energy that pushed the two knights back, both hitting the wall hard enough to knock them out. He walked over to them both and lightly prodded them with his feet, making sure they were out cold. Craig's eyes grew wide again and instinctively gulped. If this man was a "weak" magic user, he could only imagine the power of someone like the Grand Wizard. No wonder the knights didn't hold up against an army of magic elves.

"You haven't told me your name," he said to Craig, acting as though he hadn't just used _magic_ to easily blast away two knights. He reached for a large book that sat in front of him at the edge of the table. "We need it for the registry."

Craig was already frozen prior, but the question didn't help. He didn't think up a fake identity like Clyde had hounded him to do and suddenly he couldn't think. How _could_ he think? But now he was in the presence of a powerful magic user in Kupa Keep who had just saved him and had to come up with a new identity on the spot. His hand instinctively flew up to his chest, where his mother's orange pendant was hidden beneath his muddy tunic. He felt the stone against his beating, painful chest. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Feldspar," he said. "My name is Feldspar."


	2. Chapter 1

Life as a thief meant your loyalties were based entirely on convenience.

Craig felt as though that fact was a tired cliche, but it was still one that inevitably held true for him. Afterall, he stole for his livelihood-his loyalties were naturally to himself and whomever hired him. Even then, a hire was only as good as a contract. Once it ended or the agreement ceased to be mutually beneficial, it becomes fair game all over again. Former partners would become enemies, former enemies would become clients. In some circumstance, that cycle happened multiple times with the same person. For that reason, relationships were best if kept strictly professional. Always be unwilling to trust, always preventing oneself from getting attached.

Afterall, thieves work best alone.

On this particular day, he was contracted for a rather simple mission: Steal back Lady Shelley Marsh's prized pink pearl necklace. Shelley herself had asked, (or rather _demanded_ ,) he take her up on his offer. When she noticed it was gone, her scream might as well had been heard throughout every inch of the city, near instantly leading her to summon him.

She didn't know _where_ her was or even _who_ stole it, so it wasn't like a typical thieving mission of "steal this from that location". However, she was a frequent client of Feldspar the Thief, often hiring him to find her missing things. She was also not above hiring him to steal things she wanted from others. She also happened to be one of his most wealthy clients. He could never turned her down, not even despite her unpleasant disposition and lack of information she would give him for missions.

To be fair, Craig never _required_ information regarding the who from or where the things he needed to steal were. Of course, that information was helpful, but he knew the odds and ends of the underworld in Kupa Keep City. He knew which people tended to steal certain types of things, all the local pawn shops, both public and underground, and was talented at getting the right people to tell him what he wanted.

The pearl necklace would be one of his easiest finds. Afterall, he was the one who was contracted to steal it in the first place.

There were times where Craig would run a scam-stealing valuables from nobles without their knowing or suspicion in hopes that his reputation would have them ask him steal it back from whatever terrible person they imagined stole it. At first the rewards he received were far too low, at rates where he would have been better off selling the stolen goods underground, but as his reputation grew, so did the reward money and clientele. He effectively stole from the rich and sold it back to them, all the while them believing he was their hero doing them a favor.

This time, however, was not one of those situations.

Shelley Marsh's pearl necklace was extremely valuable. In fact, probably the most valuable thing he's ever stolen. It made of rare pearls from the faraway Southern Sea, only able to be gotten from a small village that viewed the pearls as sacred. They didn't usually allow their pearls to leave the ocean, making them very rare and expensive. It was the sort of thing only royalty could afford. Which, it actually _was_ once the possession of the former Queen Carol-a rare gift from the Southern Kingdom for her husband's coronation. It was said that Queen Carol gave it to the Marshes as a condolence for the death of their young son many years ago.

Of course, to Shelley, it was just something pretty and shiney that she liked to brag about owning. Naturally, as a hired thief with flighting loyalties, none of this mattered to Craig.

No, all he cared about was the task he was hired to do and the subsequent pay as he sat on the roof of a local bakery, eating one of their pastries. Of course, a pastry that he stole. To be fair, he did pay for things from that bakery sometimes. It was one of his favorite places for food.

Growing up as a serf, his diet consisted of hard grains and vegetables, some meat when they were lucky. Before coming to the city, he never had sweets or sugar. His mother would describe cakes to him, but he never really imagined it. When he had one for the first time, he couldn't help get emotional.

His current pastry was a sweet bun with a nice bit of honey on it, one of his favorites. He probably should have picked something else, though, as it made his hands ridiciously sticky. He sighed.

The baker was a nice, older man with a large belly and friendly laugh. Not a very attractive man, but hard working enough. His new wife, however, was a beauty. Probably half his age, she looked like someone out of a grand painting. He expected her to be vain and mean, but she was alright enough. She cared a lot about her looks, sure, but she seemed to love her husband and not mind the simple life of a baker's wife.

The baker, however, didn't see it that way. He felt so fortunate to have her, and felt that she deserved better. He loved being a baker, but once he got with her he wished that he was a nobleman just so that he could give her the world-a large tower with lavish furniture, beautiful dresses, an audience with the Princess.

He had saved up quite a bit of money to pay Craig to steal the necklace for her birthday.

As he finished the last few bites, he flicked off every crumb and wiped his hands on his cloak. It didn't really help. He groaned lightly to himself.

He jumped up and grabbed the chimney of the building-a very thin smokestack. Carefully, he used it to allow himself to lean forward, to get a better look inside the bakery. Or specifically, the second floor bakery, where the baker and his wife lived. They were both working in the front storeshop, and he knew that he would be safe looking in. He made sure they were there. Not only to make sure their living space was clear, but also to make sure she wasn't proudly wearing the pearl necklace. Still, he tried to be cautious.

He had to be careful, if his grip slipped, he would fall off the two story roof and onto the ground. Slowly, he leveraged himself to get a good angle. Finally, he was able to look into their bedroom, albeit from a high, indirect angle.

It wasn't a grand bedroom by the city's standards-bakers were merely peasants. Much more better off than serfs, but peasants nonetheless. They had a large bed with a mattress covered in simple, plain blankets. There was an ordinary wooden chair and dresser for the baker's wife, probably older than either of them. Basic, everyday objects. Still, a free peasant houses were far grander than anything Craig would have ever dreamt of growing up.

To any serf, they were rich. They were privileged. They were free. It made it so he didn't feel as guilty stealing back the necklace for someone like that

His angle was too limited, he realized. Slowly, he let go of the chimney and started to slide down closer to the to the edge of the roof. Wood shingles were a wonder to Craig-he could only imagine how quickly he'd fall straight through his thachet house he once lived in.

Still no good, and he was ever closer to sliding off the roof.

He sighed, and stood back up to lean against the chimney. He should have brought rope. He _has_ rope back at his place. It was unprofessional of him to not think to bring some. Annoyed with himself, he took off his brown cloak and twisted it as tightly as possible. It wasn't long enough to tie to the chimney. He picked at a shingle that was loose (but not _too_ loose) and wedged his cloak underneath, tying it around it.

It was a stupid, risky move, but he needed to look clearly inside the window and, hopefully, eventually get in it. Taking a deep breath, he gripped on the cloak and slowly allowed himself to hang off the side. The first leap of faith was the hardest, for it was the strength test to see if he wouldn't fall and break his neck. He squeezed his eyes as he climbed down. It held.

With a sigh of relief, he opened his eyes and peered into the window, getting a clear view of the entirety of the bedroom. Most importantly, he had a view of the vanity on the far side of the room. Knowing her, she'd probably keep the necklace there if anywhere.

He couldn't see the necklace, though. It was messy, scattered with multiple objects of her and somewhat obstructed by a chair. He groaned again.

Shelley would want her necklace back soon. He couldn't disappoint her.

Carefully, Craig brought his legs up and pressed them against the window. He had broken into many a windows before, even having a small bit of metal at the tip of his boots to better kick windows in, but it was always risky. It always created a loud noise that could alert everyone around. Not to mention that going through glass, especially if he didn't kick through it just right, usually left him cut up. His escape plan was also a little shaky.

Still, he figured it had to be on the vanity. He had one shot at this.

With a deep breath he bent his legs against the window. He gave himself a short count of three. When he reached "three", he pushed off as hard as he could, using his cloak as a swing, and used the momentum to swing back through the window, breaking through it. The shattering _was_ louder than expected and he _could_ feel glass indented into his arms through his thin cloth, but he didn't have time for that. The bakers, customers, or passerbys would hear this, giving him only a very limited amount of time.

Scrambling up from where he landed on the ground, he quickly ran as fast as he could to the vanity. He picked up the chair and pressed it against the bedroom door. It wouldn't hold forever, but it would buy him a few seconds, not to mention a warning when someone reached the door.

The necklace wasn't on the top of the vanity. He realized he hadn't considered that maybe she concealed it under her gown, much like his mother did. He could hear a ruckus upstairs, and knew that he didn't have time to dwell on this. He shuffled through the vanity, knocking over all the contents on the top.

"What's going on up there?!" he heard the baker yell from downstairs.

"Shit," he said under his breath. It wasn't there. Not on the top, not in any of the drawers.

He could hear footsteps heading upstairs. With or without the necklace, he'd need to get out quickly.

"Who's up there?" the baker yelled again, his voice even closer, signaling to Craig that he was on the move.

"Shit. _Shit_ ," Craig huffed, scrambling. He quickly scanned the room, making sure it wasn't on any other surface.

Footsteps were closer. He needed to go. He grabbed the blanket, and wrapped it around him, knocking over a pillow.

 _Clink._

Craig blinked. Slower than he should have moved, he reached over to the pillow. He reached his hand into the pillowcase, and felt around. Sure enough, he felt something hard and round. The necklace!

He the door move, the doorknob shake.

"OPEN UP IN THERE!" the voice yelled, banging on the door, unable to get past the obstruction. It wouldn't take a man of that size long to beat the door open, however.

 _Time to go!_ Craig thought, quickly tying the blanket to his still in place cloak. He let it fall. It would still be a decent drop, but he wouldn't die. As he swung it out, however, he realized his knot wasn't tight enough. The blanket blew away with the breeze.

" _SHIT!"_ Craig bit his mouth. Another loud bang hit the door. He had to leave _now._

As if moving by pure adrenaline, he grabbed his cloak and stood on the windowsill, still covered in shards of glass. Holding on, he swung himself hard out of the window, just as the door was finally broken down.

"Feldspar, you look like shit," Lady Shelley announced as she accepted his audience with her.

It was true, he _did_ look worse for wear. The fall had torn up his palms and kneecaps, even shredding his pants. He was extremely lucky he didn't break any bones. He had had no time to dwell on this pain, however, as the baker could soon look out the window, the commotion leading to others looking for him. He had done what he had to and jumped into a garbage heap-probably not good for his open wounds. His brown cloak was also torn at the edges now, part of it ripping from the roof.

At least his _own_ necklace was still secure around his neck. That's all that really mattered, anyway. Well, that and Lady Shelley's, safe in his satchel.

"You're welcome," Craig glared at her as he handed her the pearl necklace. It _had_ been covered in mud, but it was one thing he managed to clean off. She wouldn't be happy with dirty pearls.

With only an excited gasp, she quickly snatched the necklace from him and examined it.

Lady Shelley Marsh was not very ladylike. She was coarse and harsh. She always had messy hair and dresses less elegant and more practical than the other noble girls her age. She spoke in a rude, unladylike manner, with a lisp. She wasn't afraid to speak her mind, to be herself.

"My necklace!" she squealed with joy, "I don't know how a turd like yourself does it."

Craig probably would have liked her had she not been such an insufferable bitch.

"I just want my money," he announced.

"Excuse you," she furrowed her eyebrows, "You shouldn't _demand_ things from _nobility._ You don't want _trouble_ with nobility now do you, turd? _"_ Her servants guarding the doorway straightened up, just in case she began to gave orders.

"Please," he rolled his eyes, "You can say that, but next time you need something stolen you'd be pissed off if I wasn't around. Which, I'm sure the Grand Wizard wouldn't be happy to know how often that is."

Shelley glared at him, her face turning bright red with anger. Craig didn't move an inch, however. He knew her game.

"Give him his payment," she ordered to one of her servants as she pushed passed them, leaving them behind.

"Yes, my lady," one said, taking out an envelope labeled "Feldspar" from a satchel he had, handing it to him. Craig opened it up to see how much it was.

His eyes grew wide. He took back what he thought earlier. He would put up with Shelley as much as it took.

Having actual money, Craig bought a nice meat pie from a place he likes. It was run by a nice old lady, one he would never feel comfortable stealing from. She reminded him a lot of his own grandmother-his father's mother who had died when he was very young. Even if she was a privileged businesswoman, she still felt too moral, too kind for him to ever doublecross.

"My boy, you should clean up!" she smiled as he entered her shop.

"I'm getting to it," he smiled back, "But I've been kinda busy."

"My dear, your legs are bleeding!" she gasped as she examined him closer. She jumped up and ran to the other side of her shop, grabbing a thin cloth. She dipped it and water and, without asking him, pressed it to his knee. It stung, making him flinch.

"You don't need to do that," he said through clenched teeth due to the stinging.

"Yes I do," she insisted, "My cousin, when we were little, he scraped his foot and it got infected! We had to amputate it!"

"It's not _that_ bad, ma'am."

"Hush now, boy and listen to your elders," she demanded in a stern voice. There was a twinkle in her eye and the corner of her mouth twitched upwards.

"I just wanted a piece of your pie, ma'am."

"Of course!" she jumped up and ran to her plates. She cut him a piece far bigger than standard and wrapped it in paper. "On me," she said.

"No," Craig insisted, "I just got paid and I wanted to _buy_ a piece of your pie to celebrate."

"But I-"

"No ma'am," Craig reached into his satchel and grabbed a handful of coins, "This is for you."

He eyes grew wide, "My boy, how did you get this much money? I can't-"

"I insist," he said, taking the pie. She reached to stop him, but he politely excused himself and left the establishment.

He never ate in her actual shop. It felt weird to eat at a public eating place, even if she rarely had customers. Instead, he always opted to eat at the same old place in the castle garden. It was a boring "garden" to be honest, with only a handful of flowers and mostly boring old bushes. Princess Kenny tended to it when she was young, and it was said to be absolutely beautiful, but nowadays she was expected to spend her days in the court, tending to the Kingdom. Or, so it was said. Craig was half convinced that the Grand Wizard wanted her out of sight to further cement his own position as de facto leader.

Still, he didn't think it would have mattered that much if Princess Kenny still tended to it. He much prefer the natural flowers of the farms out in the country. He still enjoyed it, though, as it was one of few places with any semblance of open space in the crowded, walled off city.

To be honest, the focus of the garden nowadays was less the plants and more the stone statues. The largest was in the center of the park, being that of the Grand Wizard himself. Of course, it looked very little like him, much thinner, muscular, and more handsome. The Wizard probably commissioned it himself and would have killed anyone who made it unflattering.

All the other statues, however, were of fallen knights. Of course, there wasn't one for literally every single dead knight in Kupa, only those deemed significant. None of the knights who died protecting his village were worthy enough. Craig remembered how important they thought they were when they were alive. Now, he doubted anyone even remembered most of their names.

Still, despite hating knights, he found himself drawn to the statues. Perhaps it was the artistry. Perhaps it was the fact that the knights were stone-they couldn't say or do anything obnoxious. He usually sat and ate his lunch under one in particular. He didn't know why he was drawn to this particular statue. Yet, ever since he was 14, alone and lost in the big city, he felt as though it protected him. It almost gave him a paternal vibe. Perhaps he missed his father too much. The knight was quite tall like he was.

He sighed to himself again. He didn't like thinking about his family, even though he often did. The nightmares had lessened over the years, but they would never completely go away. He could always see them in his mind, asleep or awake. He could see his parents. He could see his sister. He could see his village.

He could hear their screams.

He took a bite of the pie. It was a rancid, horrible taste. It always was. Still, he always gladly ate it.

After taking a quick bath at the public bathhouse near the town square, Craig made his way back to his home in the evening. He rented the upper floor of an old man's leather tanning business. The man was poor and alone, able to live in the back of the lower level, and offered up the upper floor for a very minimal fee. The rent was low for good reason-it was a small place that always smelled awful from the shop below. Luckily, there was an outdoor staircase in the back of the building leading up to the upper floor that was constructed so he wouldn't need to go through the shop itself. He also preferred to not speak to the old man.

Tired, he climbed up the rickety stairs to his small living area. The door was locked, but it was dry rotting. It could be knocked down far easier than that of the baker's bedroom door. He sighed as he slipped the key into the lock and opened the door.

The inside of the place was as drab and cheap looking as the outside. It had poor natural lighting from the inconveniently placed windows, making it always seem dark inside. The place was essentially a repurposed loft, making it one large room.

In one corner was a makeshift kitchen with a small fire pit and old wood table. The majority of the place, however, was littered in things. From clothing to goods to supplies-he wasn't very neat. Against one wall he had his own mattress. It was stuffed with grass-a big upgrade from the prickly, uncomfortable straw mattress growing up.

And to be fair, even a slummy apartment in the city like this was _far_ better than anything he would have dreamt of in Sundorham. The walls kept out the cold in winter, the windows were real glass, and, even if the door could fall off at any minute, at least he didn't have to patch up the roof on a regular basis.

He put his things down besides his bed and laid down. It still wasn't that comfortable.

" _Do you think Princess Karen has to share her bed with her older siblings?" Tricia nudged Craig in the middle of the night with a loud whisper._

" _Of course not, they're royalty," Craig groaned, rolling over away from his little sister. She didn't wake him up, but he did want to get sleep. There was important harvesting tomorrow and he hated trying to function without a full night's rest. Now that Tricia was about five, however, all she wanted to do at night was talk._

" _Why aren't_ we _royalty?" she asked._

" _Because we're not, obviously."_

" _I know but_ why, _" she pried, "I mean, what makes us different? What stops us from going and setting up a kingdom somewhere?"_

" _Well first of all, it's not that easy," he rolled his eyes, "And second of all, we can't_ leave _anyway. We're serfs. We belong to the owners of the land."_

" _What do you mean we_ can't _leave?" she gasped._

" _We aren't allowed to leave here," he rubbed his tired eyes, annoyed, "We're '_ indebted' _to the people who own the land. It's illegal to leave the village without permission, which they don't like to do much cuz then we might leave forever."_

" _That's awful!" she sat up immediately._

" _Well, we get to live here," he shrugged, "And we're needed. If they didn't have farmers tending to the land, everyone would starve. So they can't just let us all run away to pursue dumb dreams of making a kingdom."_

" _Well I'm going to," Tricia announced, laying back in the bed, "I'm going to get out of here. No one can tell me what I'm going to do with my life."_

Craig noticed that slight dampness had pooled in his eyes. He hated how years had passed and yet he couldn't escape from his past. He hated the words of his little sister echoing in his ears, hearing her as clearly as he did back then. He hated seeing her in every strawberry blonde girl he saw, wondering what she'd look like now. He hated seeing families together happy, wondering what might have been. It pissed him off.

He quickly wiped his eyes rolled over on his side. His hand reached to his chest as he instinctively began to fiddle with the orange feldspar pendant around his neck.

He hated how he never knew if his mother ever reached Tricia.

"CRAIG!," a voice boomed, interrupting his train of thought.

For years now, after only going by Feldspar, hearing his birth name was always uncomfortable. In fact, only one person ever did.

"Hey Clyde," Craig answered apathetically as he rubbed his eyes and set up on the side of his bed.

"Man, you won't believe what I managed to get from the shop," Clyde announced, throwing his sack to the middle of their shared home.

Clyde was a merchant, given a job to assist a shop as soon as they first arrived in the city. It was a nice, high scale shop with all sorts of clothing, toys, and other goods for the rich and wealthy to waste their money on. From early on, Clyde would manage to snag things when the shopkeeper wasn't looking for himself and Craig.

In fact, it was Clyde's success in stealing from his own shop that initially gave Craig the idea of going into thievery.

"What is this shit?" Craig asked, picking up the sack and dumping the contents onto the floor. Cloth contents fell to the ground and he lightly kicked them to scatter them around, giving him a better view.

"Hey, don't just throw that all on the ground," Clyde complained, "Some of that's really expensive."

"Will it be missing?"

"Yeah, but don't worry," Clyde announced, "There was this real creepy, filthy guy that the shop owner told me to look out for, thinking he might steal or something. He's got us covered."

"You'll get caught one day," Craig sat down to start looking at the objects, "You're a shitty thief."

"Well whatever, look and see what I got."

"Hats?" Craig asked, picking up a couple that fell on the ground. A blue one and a green one.

"Yeah, we don't have any hats," Clyde announced, "I thought you might like that green one. It matches your eyes and all."

"I like the blue one," Craig announced, tossing the other back on the ground.

"But it matches you," Clyde whined, "I got it _for_ you."

"I like blue," Craig said, fitting the hat onto his head. It was a dark blue, soft fabric hat that fit around his head, completely obscuring both ears and the back of his neck, with a cut in the front that went to the bottom of his forehead. The top of it had a yellow puffy ball that was soft to the touch. Craig looked at himself in the dull mirror they had in one end of the room. He thought it suited him.

"The green one would look better," Clyde grumbled, picking it up. It was a green bycocket, a pointy hat, with a red feather. Craig had only ever seen the rich wear it and he knew it was more valuable than the one he chose. He also thought it looked incredibly stupid.

"I like the blue one," Craig echoed his own blunt thoughts, "Noble fashion is stupid."

"Whatever," Clyde put the green hat aside on their table, "Why is the bottom of your cloak all ripped?"

"Oh right."

"Oh right?"

"I had a mission for the Marsh girl today," Craig walked back over to his own pile of things and sat down on his bed.

"The super scary one?"

"She's literally the only Marsh heir," Craig rolled his eyes.

"If you say that to Lord Marsh he'll probably kill you," Clyde laughed, sitting next to Craig on his bed.

"Whatever, stop interrupting," Craig continued, "Anyway, she had me steal a necklace that was stolen from her. Which was easy enough because I was the one that had it stolen from her in the first place-"

"One of those days all that double crossing is going to catch up to you-"

"Shut up shitty thief," Craig shoved him, "Anyway, it was easy enough except that I had to break into a second floor and I forgot to bring rope-"

" _You_?" Clyde stood up and gave a fake, sarcastic gasp, "The mighty thief Feldspar? Fucking up?"

"I'm not kidding Clyde," Craig began to glare, " _Anyway_ , I kinda had to use my cape instead, so it ripped. I also ended up having to hide in garbage which was bullshit, but I went to the bath house before I came home. Obviously."

"Did you at least get paid well?"

"See for yourself," Craig gave a rare smirk, tossing over his sack.

Clyde pulled open the string and looked into it.

"Holy shit dude. Forget everything I brought."

It's true, thieves work best alone. For the most part, Craig did. He didn't make friends, he didn't seek out a long term romantic partner. He worked alone, avoiding loyalties to all he came across.

Yet, as a criminal, he knew that rules were made to be broken. Exceptions always existed. Clyde was his exception.


	3. Chapter 2

" _You can't do this to me!" Craig could hear a woman yell from the distance._

" _Lady McDaniels, I suggest you calm your temper."_

" _Don't you understand that I lost_ everything!? _You can't just sit around here and do_ nothing _!" Craig went towards the commotion to get a better look, pulling Clyde with him, dodging others who were crowding around. At the center was a very odd looking woman of about 40 or 50 following an odd fashion trend with short curly hair dyed green. There were certainly a lot of interesting types in Kupa Keep City, types of people he would have never thought existed until the past few weeks he had arrived._

" _My Lady, the war had cost us_ all _a great deal. Your village was not the only one destroyed."_

" _You can't seriously be telling me that you're not going to help me rebuild."_

" _There's nothing_ to _rebuild," the exasperated knight complained, "Anyway, who are you planning to get to live there now anyway?"_

" _I don't believe for a second that nonsense that_ none _of the peasants of Sundorham are alive. You can't tell me not_ one _of my workers are around."_

 _Craig had always known there was a Lord and Lady of his village, the Lord having passed away some time ago. Unlike many villages where the Lord lived near the village itself, usually in a grand manor, the House of McDaniels chose to live in the city instead of the remote, dull land of Sundorham. Supposedly, a generation or two ago they once had a manor on the outskirts of the village but after they ranked high enough in favor, they managed to afford to run the land without needing to be there, fetching knights to put forth their orders and do all collections._

 _In turn, Craig had never seen this lady before in his life._

" _My Lady, do you not understand-"_

" _No,_ you _don't understand, knight! Sundorham is_ my _property, the people_ belong _to me! I want you to do everything in your power to find those people and return them to me at once!"_

 _Craig felt himself grow cold._

" _Come on Cra-Feldspar. We don't need to listen to this," Clyde grabbed his arm and nudged him away._

" _Have you ever even_ seen _that lady before?" Craig whispered, his voice more melancholy than he expected._

" _Yeah," Clyde kept his head low, his voice melancholy, "When I was little. When my dad made the contract with her. She was a bitch then, and she's a bitch now."_

" _Do you think she'd remember you?" Craig asked._

" _I don't know," Clyde bit his lip. Craig could feel him trembling slightly against him as they pushed past the crowd._

" _Then let's keep her as far away from us as possible."_

Despite getting more money than he usually gets in months by doing the single job from Lady Shelly, Craig continued to work. Sure, he didn't need to. Yet for his entire life, ever since he was a small child, all he ever did was work. Work was what put a roof over his head, put food on the table.

He tried taking a few days off. He really did. He walked around the town square and tried to experience how the everyday person lives. He wore his new expensive hat out even if it was balanced out by his worn and cheaply made clothing. He visited the shops, watched children playing. He tried to do what he figured normal people in the city do on days off.

He determined immediately that it was incredibly boring.

He wasn't one for fun and excitement. Honestly, he preferred the simple, mundane thieving missions. But at least he was _doing_ something. Plus, he _liked_ being a thief. He really didn't know how some people did it, living their life without work. If he didn't know better, he'd almost pity the rich who never had to work a day in their life.

Of course, though, he _did_ know better.

He also realized that having money to buy things wasn't as exciting when you're an expert at stealing them for free.

"Feldspar, you're here more often than usual," the tavern wench raised her eyebrow as she handed Craig another beer after a long day of him attempting to do nothing. He didn't know the tavern wench's real name, but everyone called her Red because of her striking red hair. Her personality also matched. From what he did know about her, she was the daughter of the tavern's owner and had dirt on _everyone_. Craig always knew to be cautious around her.

"It's none of your business," he decided to say plainly, taking his drink from her.

"That bad?" Red smirked.

He frequented this particular tavern every once in a while as of all of them in the city, it most reminded him of the inn his town had. He preferred eating on his own and drinking with Clyde, but on occasion he felt in the mood to drink in public.

The tavern had a slew of people of all walks of life. There were the poor who would drink away their sorrows of being poor. There were working people who would stop by after a long day at their job. It generally didn't have the primmest of prim of the nobles, but some of the more grounded ones would occasionally come, especially if they had something to drink away their woes over.

"I'll tell you why _I'm_ here," a voice grumbled. Craig could tell by the speaker's outfit and demeanor that he was one of those woeful nobles. Specifically, he wore a red cape and head sash of the clerics, complete with their insignia. Clerics were magical healers, a group the Wizard allowed to train in magic due to their usefulness on the battlefield, but only those of certain noble houses were permitted.

"Oh?" Red turned around and faced the other patron, immediately losing interest in Craig. The man was slouching in his chair, empty glasses around him.

"That fucking...fatass piece of _shit!_ " he grumbled, taking another swig of his drink. Craig's interest was also piqued with that statement. He must mean the Grand Wizard.

"What of him, Token?" Red pressed, immediately handing him over a shot of whiskey. Craig knew it was her big tactic to get drunk people to talk. Though honestly, he would be lying if he said he didn't do the same to get information out of people for his own missions.

The man-Token-continued, balling his fists, "For _ten years_ I've been an apprentice in magic and medicine to become a cleric. Since I was a _child_! My family has always had generations of the best clerics on the field, as useful as any knight. But the Wizard has _always_ had it out for my family.Now he's declared that I _can't_ continue my study of medicine because he _'thinks I have a natural talent for blacksmithing.'_ What does that even _mean_? He just wants to be the only fucking magic user in the kingdom, even if it means he's fucking over everyone else. He doesn't _care_ how many lives we save, he doesn't _care_ about our feelings!"

Red sighed and took away some of his empty glasses. "That's who he is. He has always been one of the grossest, most disgusting people in Zaron, but now that he _can_ do whatever he wants he _does_. Who would have thought that the useless King Stewart actually had a purpose in reigning him back a bit? Still, not like there's anything _we_ can do about it."

"You think all of Kupa is just gonna have to learned to deal with being screwed over by him forever?" Craig found himself asking on impulse.

"Ha," Token laughed sardonically, "He's been pissing off the dwarves a lot lately, next thing he'll get us in another pointless war. Maybe they'll actually destroy this god awful city instead of those pointless serf villages."

"What do you mean _pointless_?" Craig answered, "Hundreds of people were killed. _Children_ were killed." 

"Yeah," Token retorted, "Though honestly have you seen the living conditions? I almost feel like death is a _mercy_ from that lifestyle."

" _Mercy_? What would a _noble_ like you know about something like that? You're pissed off that you're out of some dumb job yet think the murder of hundreds is _mercy_?" Craig stood up, his face growing hot with rage. He hated nobles, every last one of them. He hated the wealthy. He hated freemen.

"Feldspar!" Red glared at him, "You start anything, I'm kicking you out."

Craig forced himself to unclench his fists. He couldn't afford to cause trouble. He also mustn't be too touchy about the destroyed villages, lest he gave himself away. Sure, a serf became a freeman once they escaped for over a year. Not to mention that Lady McDaniels died a couple years ago without an heir or rebuilt land, Sundorham still an untouched ruin. Still, he knew his true identity getting out would cause trouble, especially meaning that he lied to gain entry to the city.

"Whatever," Craig sat back down.

"Anyway, Feldspar, to answer your question," Red continued, "Do _you_ have any plans or desire to do anything about the Grand Wizard?"

"Of course not," he answered, slouching into his chair as he grumpily finished his drink.

So, with all that behind him, Craig quickly found himself once more taking up various jobs to do. He pickpocketed from passerby nobles and sold what he could to pawn shops. He had a job from a blacksmith to steal some charcoal from the Crown's own supply, as coal was scarce and hard to come by on the normal market due to the Grand Wizard King having recently upset the Dwarf King from which it comes. He went out of his way to take more than he needed and in turn sold some to anyone else who offered to buy it. He also stole some apples and bread for some local street children in turn for them to mend his ripped pants.

Eventually, the baker came sobbing to him about the theft of their necklace that was oh so viciously stolen from their very own bedchambers. The great Feldspar the Thief, never wanting to disappoint clients, offered to steal for them a nice, but much less high profile, bit of jewelry for a discount fee. In reality, he didn't even need to steal anything himself, simply taking one of the previously stolen things from Clyde's own shop that they had stored away in a trunk. They had actually kept this particular necklace because the pawn shop rendered it useless.

He didn't really feel that guilty for what he did to the baker. After all, they had no problem stealing a necklace of great value that was a gift to a family as a condolence for their dead child. The baker could have easily gone lower and picked any other nice thing to steal without going that greedy and careless.

To be fair, Feldspar the Thief _himself_ had no qualms about stealing it from Lady Shelly when he was first contracted to do so in the first place. Sure, he was almost certain she'd ask him to steal it back, but in the end it still _was_ sort of a cruel thing to steal. Not that he really cared. Nor did he _really_ think Lady Shelly cared about the necklace for the sentimental value.

Regardless, a mission was a mission.

"I don't get you," Clyde whined at their dinner table that night as Craig announced his early return to thieving. They had a beef stew and rye bread, something that was an occasional treat for them. "Man, I'd _love_ to get out of having to work."

"Then quit. It's not like I'm holding a knife to your throat."

"Dude, c'mon," Clyde groaned, shoving a mouthful of bread into his mouth, "You know it doesn't work that way. I'm a merchant class, Kupa _expects_ me to work. Plus, even if we have the money, do you really think Kupa won't get suspicious seeing us have money with both of us legally unemployed?"

"Then leave the city already," Craig rolled his eyes, "That's what you've been planning to do for years now."

"You know I can't yet."

"Then when, Clyde?" Craig sighed, "You've been talking all about your dreams and plans since we were kids and Sundorham, but all you've been doing is continuing on as a shitty merchant and an even shittier thief."

To be fair, Craig didn't _really_ want Clyde to leave the city. Craig wasn't happy in the city, but he was comfortable for the time being. Clyde was all he had, his only friend, the last remnant he had of his childhood. The only person who knew who he really was. He would naturally follow his friend into the face of death. Even if he would never phrase it that bluntly or sentimentally to his face.

"Speaking of that…" Clyde put his bread back on his plate. His expression grew serious, a rare look for him.

"Yes?" Craig asked, his interest piqued.

"My boss is having me transferred," Clyde said, his voice dead serious, "He wants me to work as the Grand Wizard's personal merchant."

"Is that a good thing?" Craig asked as he shoved more food in his mouth, "I mean he's a huge fucking douchebag, but at least you'll get paid more."

"Yeah well, the reason he _needs_ a merchant is because he had the last one...executed."

"Well, maybe the last guy fucked up."

"He's had six merchants either killed or banished from space and time. In the past two years."

"And you said 'not yet' about getting the fuck out _why_?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Because dude, he's the _Grand Wizard_ ," Clyde hit the table, "You can't just quit on the Grand Wizard. But whatever. I think I can make the situation work."

Craig poured himself some of the liquor at the table and quickly took a shot.

"Well, whatever. As long as you know what you're doing, you know you'll always have me at your side."

Craig tried not to think about his conversation with Clyde the night before as he went out the next day. Clyde had to leave very early to be there for the Grand Wizard on time and Craig never liked waking up early, so he hadn't seen him before he left.

He decided he didn't want to deal with anyone on that day, and merely took to pick pocketing in the town square. It was one of the first things he learned how to do. It was actually pretty fun for him.

Of course he had to watch out. Thieving was obviously a risky job in any circumstance, but being caught taking off the jewelry of a noblewoman red handed would surely get him locked away in a dungeon. That is, if the powerful person didn't immediately demand his execution.

Still, for all the years he had been thieving, never once had he been caught. He was the best for a reason. A skill that made people hire him, wanting his skills on their own side, not caring that they were hiring a criminal. No one ever once reported him.

The only person he really had to worry about was Dame Wendy Testaburger.

She wasn't a _bad_ person by any means, if Craig was going to be honest with himself. She had a lot more integrity and soul than virtually any other knight he had ever met, especially for someone already born into a noble family. Despite her young age, she had managed to work herself up the ranks and lead a very elite, all-female group of knights. The Grand Wizard was said to absolutely despise her and her squadron, but he didn't disband them. They were too valuable- _she_ was too valuable. Not to mention, the Princess adored her.

Beyond her strong combat and leadership abilities, in the current time of temporary peace she made it her goal "clean up" the city, if not kingdom as a whole. The Grand Wizard may not care about the crime infesting the city, but Dame Wendy Testaburger did. She made it her duty to make Kupa Keep a land that was perfectly safe for all people and she was going to do her best to do so with or without official support. She busted fractions of the black market, caught people thieving, stopped assaults, went after murderers.

Honestly, she _was_ a good thing for Kupa. She just wasn't a good thing for _Feldspar the Thief_ , someone who made a living off of the selfish, exploitable side of the people.

"Feldspar," she called out, her voice as booming and confident as ever.

Craig groaned, squeezing his eyes shut with annoyance. He had a necklace in his hands, but he was able to casually fit it into a hidden pocket in his pants as he turned around.

"Yes, Dame Testaburger?" he answered her, sarcasm clear in his voice.

Dame Testaburger glared at him, her dark brown eyes cutting through him like a knife.

She always was suspicious of him, from her first days training to be a knight as a young teenager. She had noticed his odd ways of walking oddly close to the wealthy, as if to steal from them. She had noticed how he would visit shops, only to never buy anything. She had paid attention to his background as a passerby who happened by chance to come to the city as the war drew to a close.

It was after the sudden death of Lady McDaniels, however, that she frequently pestered him.

"You don't look happy," Craig mused, "You find out there's more proof that I'm innocent?"

"No," she frowned, "But that's not why I'm here today."

"I'm not stealing anything either, if that's what you're wondering," he answered, "Clyde's working for the Grand Wizard now. Not that I need _your_ approval to do what I want, but now that he's got an even better paying job I can afford to do what I want."

"I wouldn't understand why someone like him would take in a freeloader like you," she said, "Unless, you know…"

Craig frowned. He knew _exactly_ what she meant. He forced himself the inside of his mouth to prevent himself from giving her the spiteful response he wanted to. He knew it was widely believed that him and Clyde were lovers and honestly, it would probably help their image if he just said they were. But they weren't. And that was one thing Craig refused to lie about.

Sure, Craig definitely pondered the idea of being with Clyde. Far more than he would like to admit. Okay, probably to an uncomfortable amount. Clyde wasn't super attractive, but he wasn't _hideous_ by any means. He was annoying at times, but he liked him a lot as a friend. He was there for him. He would probably _like_ being "with" Clyde. He definitely wasn't _in love_ with him by any means nor did he lose any sleep over the idea. Yet it was an idea that always made his face turn bright red.

However, Clyde himself had a female lover of his own. One he was head over heels for.

When Clyde first brought her home, it hurt Craig far more than he expected it to. Not a stabbing pain he would shed tears over, but still somewhat uncomfortable in a way he didn't plan. She was funny, outgoing, beautiful, and likable. They had been together for a few years now, Clyde even discussed bringing her with them when they finally left the city. A concept that always made him feel sick in a way he couldn't describe. They were still going strong, but gradually even dense Clyde picked up on his discomfort and stopped bringing her around their place or mentioning her as much to him.

"Feldspar!" Dame Testaburger yelled. Craig hadn't realized that he allowed himself to zone out thinking about this. He scowled at her to hide his embarrassment.

"Are you just going to keep standing there, wasting my time, or do you actually have something to say?" he managed.

"Yes, in fact. I've been called to summon you."

"What?! I haven't been doing anything wrong!"

"Unfortunately, I'm not here to get you in trouble," she rolled her eyes and signaled for him to follow as she walked off, "It's the House of Marsh that are summoning you."

"Shelly?" he asked, hesitantly following her.

" _Lady_ Shelly," she corrected him, "But no."

"But why-"

"I don't know," she cut him off abruptly. Craig knew better than to speak further, and allowed her to guide him in silence.

As was with the highest of nobility of Kupa that so wished to reside in the city, the Marshes owned on of the many large towers connected to the entirety of the large castle and its walls that surrounded the city. Craig had heard that this was odd for a kingdom-most lords lived in manors in their own land, but Kupa allowed those of highest status to stay in the kingdom, in towers of the Castle. He always wondered if it was a political tactic for the royal family or the Grand Wizard to keep an eye on the nobility.

Their tower's entrance was made up by a large wooden double door, guarded by two knights in a very still, very statue-like stance. Without her needing to say a single word, they broke their stance and opened the door for Dame Testaburger with a bow.

"This way," she called out as she entered.

One of the knights scoffed slightly as Craig entered. Now wasn't the time for Craig to make a response to him, and kept his head high and expressionless as he walked passed him. He did, however, manage to swipe a silver knife hanging from the knight's waist.

He hadn't known it at the time, but the Marsh's residence was the first place he had been to when he entered Sundorham. For that reason alone, the dark stone walls and winding staircases always felt more like a dungeon to him than a grand castle. Not all the intricate artwork, tapestries, and other expensive goods on decoration could change his mind.

Dame Testaburger was telling the truth in saying that he was not there for Lady Shelly, as she took him up flights of winding stairs above her low level chambers. He expected her to take him to the dark meeting room where he had been first taken all those years ago, but she didn't. They went higher in the tower, where he had never been before.

As they continued to ascend the winding staircase, Craig could faintly hear music playing. Beautiful music, soft and gentle like the melodies his mother hummed to him and his sister. As it got louder, he guessed that it was the sound of a gentle lute.

As they reached the entrance of the room from which the sound was coming, he could see that the music was in fact played by a man on a lute. The musician was a brown haired man about his own age, playing away passionately on his instrument on a small stool in the corner. Against the wall were a pair of crutches and it was only then that Craig noticed that the man was disabled.

Upon their presence being known, the man looked up at him from the entryway. He gave Craig a small smile. His eyes, however, gave him a shrewd, mischievous look. It threw Craig aback, probably showing it on his face. The musician, without missing a single note on his lute, laughed silently under his breath.

"Thank you Dame Testaburger," a female voice said, "That will be all."

Craig had been so enthralled with the music that he hadn't even noticed that the Lord and Lady Marsh were in the room, along with their daughter who didn't look pleased.

"Are you sure?" Dame Testaburger confirmed, looking skeptically at Craig.

"Yes I'm sure, Wendy," Lady Sharon insisted with a smile. Though behind that smile, he could sense an urgency, he could tell that she was clearly wanting her to leave.

"Then I'll be seeing you Lady Marsh," she bowed, "Lord Marsh. Lady Shelly."

"Seriously Wendy, can't you tell my mom wants you to leave already?" Shelly spat. Craig couldn't help but feel the edges of his mouth curl up in a smile. Testaburger merely swallowed her pride and left.

It was then that Craig allowed himself to get a better look at the room he was in. It was a grand room that appeared to be a dining room, with a large table in the center, decorated with a blue and red table cloth taking up much of the room. There were grand, intricate wooden chairs engraved with many designs and Lady Shelly-in a very unladylike fashion-was leaning back in one. Lord Marsh himself was sitting at the end of the table. The stranger continued to play away at his lute, uninterrupted.

"You must be wondering why we called you here, Feldspar," Lady Sharon walked back to the table and took a seat.

"Well yeah," Craig answered, taking Lady Sharon's actions an invitation to follow and take an empty seat at the table.

"Shelly, would _you_ like to tell him?" Lord Marsh asked, disapproval towards his daughter in his voice. He sounded surprisingly sober.

"Don't _embarrass_ me dad," she huffed, hitting at the pink ruffles of her skirt.

"Shelly," her mother warned sternly.

"I don't really care who tells me," Craig offered in a deadpan voice.

Lady Sharon's expression became appalled, as if she were shocked that a mere peasant would have the gall to talk back to someone of her status. Still, after only a few moments, her expression faded and reverted back to her previous, welcoming one. Then it grew deeply melancholy.

"As you may know," she said slowly and hesitantly, looking down at her hands resting on the table. Her expression became terribly pained, but Craig didn't really care. Instead, he noticed that her fingers covered in expensive rings that he would love to steal. Still, she took a deep breath and continued, "As you may know, we once had a son."

"We still _have_ a son, Sharon," Lord Marsh interjected.

"Not _now_ Randy," she hissed. She rubbed her hands through her short brown hair and brought herself the strength to continue, "Anyway, we _had_ a son. He was, as any child would be...very important to us."

"I've heard," Craig interjected, trying to sound as respectful as possible, "He was killed by elves when he was a little boy."

Craig's words caused tears to instantly run down her face. She quickly used a napkin at the table to wipe her eyes. For a moment he felt empathetic towards her.

It was a story everyone within the city gates had heard, though he admittedly hadn't heard it before he arrived. Yet once he stepped foot in the gates of the city, it was the gossip of the entire population, sung by every bard. Even though it had happened years before it was second only to the death of the King and conflict over the throne. Arguably it was a topic even more long lasting than that of the devastating war they had just fought. To be fair, the war was something distant and far away, not something that affected the city people in the slightest.

Still, although there were variations of exactly what happened, the version Craig most often heard went like this. Apparently, many years ago, due to Lord Marsh's status as one of the very few permitted magic users in Kupa, the King and Grand Wizard would send him away on various missions across the kingdom, even across all of Zaron, taking along his wife and two young children. Supposedly, the family had become a face of diplomacy-a noble family featuring a magic user traveling and discussing trade and war across the land. Whispers said that the fact that Lord Marsh was a magic user himself helped dispel rumors of the horrible treatment of those gifted with a magical connection in the Kingdom of Kupa Keep.

At one particular trip, the family was said to be on their way to make peace with a barbarian tribe Kupa had been having mild skirmishes with along their borders. However, rumor had it that the High Elf Kingdom wanted to stop any peace talks between Kupa and barbarians, fearing that an alliance would make their elf kingdom more vulnerable. Wanting to stop it, it was said that the High Elf Queen herself personally sent out some of her fiercest warriors to stop the Marsh's convoy.

It was said that they were ambushed. That the elves attacked the poor, unarmed family while they were peacefully going along their path. Lord Randy was able to keep many of them off with his magic and get his family away, instantly guiding his family back towards Kupa.

Yet not before it was already too late for their youngest son.

Reports varied significantly depending on which bard was telling the story on how the poor boy died. Although Lord Marsh insisted that he was alive, no variation of the story involved the boy surviving. Some said his death was brutal and slow, others said it was quick and painless. Some reports said his body was buried, and that the Lord Marsh was in denial. Others claimed that he was left behind, leading to more of an excuse or opening for his insistence of his son's survival.

Regardless, it left both of the young boy's parents absolutely devastated.

Craig didn't really care what the _real_ story was. Nor did he want to hear any version of it from the Marsh family firsthand. He knew there were far worse tragedies out there and that people lost their children every day to disease and starvation. He didn't understand the justification of so much focus on one single noble boy's death forever ago.

Lady Marsh continued wiping away tears. Not that it really helped, Craig noted, as they continued to fall down her face.

"Stanley would have been about your age," she tried to smile, "And your hair color. He might have looked like you"

"Oh _god_ mom, can you get on with it without getting all creepy on him?" Shelly protested. She clearly didn't care about her mother's woes.

To be fair, she did always have to deal with talk in the city about how the wrong Marsh child died.

"Anyway," she placed the damp napkin back on the table, "When Stanley... _died,_ the Queen gifted us one of her most valuable possessions."

"Shelly's pink pearls," Craig nodded, "Everyone knows that."

"Yes well we found out that our daughter _lost_ them," Lord Marsh shot a look at his daughter.

"I got them back!" Shelly protested, crossing her arms.

"As we've heard it," Lady Sharon interjected, "That's all thanks to _you_ , Feldspar."

" _Oh. That's_ why you've called me here."

"I hear rumors that the boy Feldspar I let into the village a number of years ago had become a thief," Lord Marsh continued, "You know you gotta be careful. Thieving isn't tolerated around here."

"Are you gonna tell on me, my Lord?"

"No!" Sharon interrupted, "Although we're disappointed in our daughter for going behind our back and hiring a thief, we are greatly indebted to you. You brought back something absolutely invaluable to us."

Lord Marsh tapped on the table twice. Immediately, through his magic, plates and gauntlets flew in through the room. Craig could guess were made of real silver and couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of noble-only food would be placed on them. He could smell meats and vegetables he could never dream of affording _or_ stealing. Carefully, the magical gust lowered one of the platters directly in front of him.

Craig looked at his plate. An large piece of meat that he didn't recognize sat in the middle, surrounded by clams, cheeses, and grapes. A glass of red wine was in a golden, gem covered gauntlet.

"Thief or not," Lord Marsh announced, "We want you to know we appreciate you for what you've done. Going forward, regardless of what is to come, you have an ally in House Marsh."


	4. Chapter 3

"Where have you been?"

"Hey. You're up late."

"Well, you're _home late_."

"Shit dude, maybe because with _my_ job I live by my own schedule. You don't."

"Well regardless, usually you _tell me._ "

"Holy shit Clyde, I'm not your fucking spouse," Craig threw his sack near his bed annoyedly.

"I know, but I thought you wouldn't ditch out on me-"

"I have my own fucking life, Clyde," Craig groaned as he allowed himself to flop on his thin stuffed mattress.

Clyde was always like this whenever Craig came back to their place late. Always. Like a suspicious wife who thought her husband was out with some other woman. In turn, it always made _Craig_ feel like he was in the wrong. But he wasn't. He was allowed to have his own life. It pissed him off. Still, he _knew_ Clyde, he _knew_ that he was a very touchy person, full of abandonment issues. Much like himself. Though, with Clyde, it materialized in the opposite fashion.

"I really was busy," Craig added, instinctively reaching for his pendant to fiddle with. He found over the years, he always did it as a nervous habit.

"What, stealing?" Clyde rolled his eyes.

" _Actually_ , I had a dinner with the House of Marsh. I don't like them, but because I saved that necklace that's super important to them they said they owe me. You know, the one I got a ton of money from Shelly for getting? Well, apparently it was a big deal to the whole family, so they said I can _'consider them an ally now_ '."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Craig continued, "Sure, they're all douchey nobles like all the rest, but I think they can be useful, I mean. Plus they served dinner and I honestly wished you could have come but-"

"So on my _first day_ with the Grand Wizard you disappear without telling me to go out and eat a feast with some nobles?"

Craig shot up and sat up straight on his bed, the pendant falling from his grip against his chest. "I forgot about that."

"Whatever," Clyde retorted. He sounded genuinely offended. He walked over to his own mattress on the other side of the room. Naturally, given how late it was, he had already took off all of his street clothes besides his long shirt to sleep in. He flopped down on his own bed.

"How was it?" Craig offered, not wanting to deal with an offended, upset Clyde.

"Awful," he answered immediately.

An awkward silence grew between the two of them. Craig wasn't sure if he should respond, or leave it at that for the night. Perhaps they were both too touchy, that it would be better for the two of them to sleep this off.

Craig sighed, deciding against his better judgement to speak anyway. "How was it awful?" he asked.

"How do you think?" Clyde sat up, the candlelight in their room illuminating his angry face, "Do you think working for the person who is to blame for the death of my family is a _fun_? The person who fucks over his entire fucking kingdom? Did you think I would _like_ walking around selling his self-serving trinkets of himself, hounding everyone to buy them? All I can do is wait for the day he gets mad at his low sale's numbers and take it out on _me_ and-"

"I _told you_ that you should leave!"

"What the fuck do _you_ know, Craig?" Clyde had visible tears welling in his eyes from frustration, "You think just because you're getting good at the underworld means you know _anything_ about how Zaron's society works? You work for yourself, you don't _get_ how society itself is run, how _actual_ jobs work. You're the one who thought you could just walk into the city as a serf and be treated like a freeman. You don't know _anything_ about what it's like to be me."

"Well _sorry_ that I was born a glorified slave to some shitty piece of land! _Sorry_ that I don't know what it's like to have a steady job. _Sorry_ that I wasn't born with a literal coin in my hand granting me absolute freedom to be wherever I want," Craig stood up. He didn't like losing his cool, especially at Clyde. The fact that he was getting pissed off at Clyde only made him more pissed.

"For all your hatred of freemen and anyone above you, you seem to forget that your own _mom_ was a noblewoman."

As if he lost control of his legs, he found himself marching over to Clyde.

"I don't want you _ever_ to mention my mother or any of my family _ever again_ ," Craig hissed venomously under his breath, his green eyes piercing Clyde's brown like daggers.

"Whatever," Clyde said again. He laid down on his bed and rolled facing the wall away from him.

Craig didn't want to get angrier than he already was-he hated losing himself to emotions. He balled his fists and fought the urge to kick something.

Craig didn't want to be this upset at Clyde. He was his best-his _only_ friend. He knew he was just stressed and worried about his job. The fact he knew so much about Craig was the reason he knew exactly what to say to piss him off or even hurt him.

Slowly, Craig unclenched his fists and took a deep breath. He blew out the candles, took off his clothes down to his shirt and pants and went back to bed. He was exhausted, too exhausted to fight or be mad.

Still, he didn't understand Clyde sometimes.

Clyde was once again already gone before Craig even woke up the next morning. He did hear the door slam as he left, but immediately after he drifted back to sleep for another good hour or two. The fact that he slammed the door as he did meant he was probably still mad. A fact alone that made him not want to get up today. He was already over what happened yesterday, but he knew dealing with Clyde later would be a pain.

Somehow, dealing with Clyde's girlfriend was even worse. It was actually her that made him get out of bed. A loud knock on the door in the late morning.

"Hey Feldspar, you in there?" she called in her immediately recognizable voice.

"No," he said under his breath.

"Hey good, I wanna talk to you," she called. When he didn't immediately respond again, she just pounded on the door even louder.

He could tell she wasn't going anywhere. With an annoyed yawn, he sat up and stretched himself, his shoulders cracking louder than he thought they probably should. With another annoyed, tired sigh he reached for his hat and shoved it on to cover his messy bedhead hair and slowly trudged his way to the door, opening it slowly to not have the light of day blind him.

Bebe Stevens was beautiful, objectively speaking. Too beautiful for someone like Clyde, Craig always thought. She had curly long golden hair that she primarily kept down sans a few intricate braids woven into it. Her father was a knight that had died in battle a number of years ago and due to his rank upon his death her family had a surplus amount of money, even if they couldn't hold a candle to nobility. Still, she wore beautifully intricate gowns that were always stylish, even if not the most expensive and elite. Not that it mattered, she was highly regarded by the city. She was a popular socialite. She was educated. Beautiful.

She was absolutely out of Clyde's league.

To be fair, he was pretty sure the reason they first got together was because she wanted someone to get her nice things. Specifically, nice things from the shop Clyde worked at. Yet somehow, for reasons Craig never understood, even after he left that shop and she no longer seemed to fish for things from his work, they seemed to make their relationship work and really grew to care for one another.

Craig probably never would it. But then, he didn't really _get_ romance in general.

"Feldspar, I'm worried about Clyde," Bebe said, entering their small apartment before Craig even had the chance to invite her in. Not that he was planning on doing so. But if he _was_ planning on inviting her in, she sure did it herself before he had the chance to.

"He told you about his new job?" Craig yawned, following her inside. He flopped himself into a sitting position on his bed.

"I think he's really worried," she said, taking a seat at their table.

"Well he _should_ be," Craig scratched his head under his hat, "He's working for the biggest sociopath in all of Zaron. I heard he fucking murdered all his previous merchants."

"Don't say that," Bebe scolded, "Don't be so flippant about his life."

"Believe it or not, I care a lot about Clyde," he rolled his eyes, "If I genuinely was worried he was going to get killed or whatever, I wouldn't be this calm."

"Well, shouldn't you be worried?"

"Nah."

"And why is that?"

"I dunno," Craig pulled his hands down from his scalp and rubbed his tired eyes, "Someone who has been through what he has isn't gonna die because he dropped a shitty trinket on the Grand Wizard's foot. He might be a huge crybaby hypochondriac but...He's also a survivor. I guess."

"Clyde never talks about his past with me," Bebe replied in a tone that seemed half pouty and half genuinely melancholy as she twirled one of her gold curls around her finger. He noticed a single tear run down her pale cheek.

"I know you probably think I'm bullshitting you," he said, softening his tone slightly, "But it really is better that way."

"People don't get why I'm with him you know," she wiped her eyes with a handkerchief, "Especially Wendy. She always says I should leave him. She thinks he uses me and that he's actually with _you-_ "

"That's not true."

" _I_ know that! But that's not the point. The point is, I-I really care about him. But I'm tired of always worrying about him. I'm tired of knowing next to nothing about him!"

"You know I can't tell you, Bebe."

That wasn't the answer she wanted to hear.

Craig sighed. He didn't like dealing with her in general, let alone her being this persistent and emotional. He wasn't good with emotional people. He barely put up with Clyde.

"Though," Craig let out, "If it makes you feel better. I won't let anything happen to him. I promise."

She didn't look at him. She silently stood up and left, quietly shutting the door behind her.

As soon as he heard her footsteps fade, he face planted into his pillow and groaned into it.

"I thought you said you were never coming back here again?" Red laughed, pouring some beer from the wooden keg.

"Just give me my beer," Craig responded.

"So, it's that you really need a drink?" she smiled mischievously, "Something happen?"

"I'll leave," Craig glared at her. The tavern was practically empty, especially given that it was still early morning. _Too_ early for him to be drinking. But he didn't care. He _did_ want his drink.

"Let me guess," Red placed a large beer stein in front of him, "It either has something to do with your roommate's new job with the Grand Wizard _or_ your personal dealings with the House of Marsh. Or both."

"How do you-?"

"I know everything," she winked, turning her attention back to the bar.

"A-Actually, I w-was the one wh-who told her about th-th-that," a voice said. Instinctively, Craig turned his head to see who it was.

It was the lute player from yesterday. He was sitting in a chair a few feet away from him, his lute in his lap. His face had the same mischievous look he flashed him yesterday as well.

"Jimmy!" Red scolded, with a bit of lighthearted humor in her voice, "If you spill my sources I won't let you play here this evening."

"Who are you?" Craig asked. He found himself studying the man closely. He wore the same outfit he had yesterday-a yellow tunic and green cape, complete with a grey hat with a tacky feather coming out of it. He also had the same crutches leaned against his table.

He knew from the moment he saw him something about him seemed up.

"I-I'm Valmer. Jimmy Va-Valmer," he said in a tacky voice, "I-I'm a bard. And a musician. Though m-my biggest pa-pa-passion is comedy."

He seemed a lot stranger than Craig had predicted.

"I'm-"

"You're F-Feldspar," he cut him off, "I heard of you. N-Not to mention that I l-listened in on y-your entire m-meeting."

"I wasn't going to tell you my name," Craig objected.

"L-Like I said, you didn't need to."

"So what's your deal?" Craig asked, "You pretend to be some poor old musician to play nice tunes in the background when you're actually eavesdropping on them?"

"That's a fresh accusation coming from a thief," Red called out from the other side of the bar.

Ignoring Red, Craig continued, "I haven't seen you before. Are you from around here?"

"Nope," he said, putting his lute on the table to reach for his drink, "I'm a b-bard. I travel."

Craig really didn't want to hear his entire life story.

"Jimmy has a really interesting life story," Red smiled, leaning on the bar, "Why don't you tell us, Jimmy?"

" _Goddammit,"_ Craig whispered under his breath.

"Y-Y-Ye-Yeah!" Jimmy smiled cockily, "R-Right before I c-c-came to K-Kupa, I was a-actually hanging out with a nice tribe of B-Barbarians."

"Barbarians?" Craig responded, skeptically raising an eyebrow, "You're saying you were with _nice_ Barbarians?"

"Y-Y-Yep."

"Bullshit," Craig turned away from him and back to the bar, taking another large gulp of his drink.

"Why would you say it's bu-bu-bullshit?" Jimmy asked, a hint of a laugh in his voice.

"C'mon dude," Craig rolled his eyes as he used his sleeve to wipe the beer off his upper lip, "Everyone knows that Barbarians are...well, fucking _barbaric_. They don't act _nice_ , they don't _greet_ outsiders. Their entire life is fighting and killing. They're barely even _human_."

"S-Says who?" Jimmy smiled, "Have you ever _met_ one? Seen one?"

Craig grimaced. "Please Red, tell me _you_ don't buy into this bullshit."

"Why wouldn't I?" Red shrugged, " _I've_ never met one. Have _you_ Feldspar?"

"Of course not because I'd probably be fucking _dead_ ," Craig found his voice getting irritated, "This is fucking ridiculous. This isn't even a discussion. It's common fucking knowledge. I'm not going to argue it."

"You'd find that a l-l-lot of what the K-Kingdom of Kupa K-Keep spouts as _'co-common fucking kno-knowledge'_ isn't true."

"So what then?" Craig turned back to him, "You're telling me that it's all a lie? That the Barbarians are all super lovey dovey people who hold hands and sing songs?"

"N-Nope," Jimmy casually stretched one of his arms, "They _are_ a w-warrior society. Th-They _do_ value battle. They _are_ c-cautious of outsiders and d-don't take well to i-i-ntruders. But that doesn't mean that once you get to kn-know them they can't be p-perfectly nice people."

"Whatever."

"E-Elves are pr-pr-probably the nicest though."

"That's it," Craig announced as he stood up, pushing his near empty drink aside towards Red, "I've had enough."

"C'mon Craig, I would th-think _you_ of all p-p-people would know better than to tr-trust Kupa," Jimmy laughed.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Get help," Craig scoffed, dropping a handful of coins on his way out to cover his tab.

"Aw don't be rude to my patrons," Red tsked at him jokingly, scooping up his payment and wiping off the section of the bar where he had sat.

"He's gonna get in trouble with the entirety of Kupa if he's not fucking careful," Craig waved his hand flippantly as went towards the exit, "Don't get caught up in it, Red. Not for this asshole."

It was still technically late morning, but after everything that had happened that day, Craig just wanted to go home. He had a couple contracts with people, but nothing he couldn't do tomorrow. He knew some would be easy, but he couldn't bring himself to do them, so he just walked straight to his home without looking back.

The tanner was busy, with various customers all around, meaning he wouldn't have peace and quiet. The old man waved at him, probably wanting to start a conversation or at worst try and guilt him into helping him at his shop, but Craig pretended he didn't notice him.

All he wanted to do was go to sleep in his cheap bed, not having to think about Clyde or Bebe or the Wizard or some delusional bard with fantasy stories. Preferably, the sleep would last for a year or two. Or maybe he could sleep so hard that he could go back in time. Back when life was more strenuous yet...happier. He found himself subconsciously fiddling with his pendant again.

He closed his eyes, but he could still see that bard's cocky smile. He didn't know _why_ he got to him so much. He always knew not to trust bards. They always filled little Tricia's head with fairy tales. About the Stick of Truth that didn't exist, about happy cities in faraway lands where people wanted for nothing, about things Craig had resigned to accepting couldn't possibly be real. Sure, there was magic in the world, but there wasn't nothing _magical_ or exciting about the bleak, unfair, and uncaring world he lived in.

He knew he wasn't going to get any sleep.

He groaned and rolled over to one side. His hat, which he hadn't bothered to take off, slid down over his face so he annoyedly pulled it off and chucked it across the room, hitting the other side. He heard it knock something over, but frankly he wasn't in the mood to care what it was.

Who was that bard anyway to claim that he knew anything about him? Was that part of his game? To claim to be all knowing to make people trust him, buy into him? Like some shitty fraudulent fortune teller's cold reading? He didn't- _couldn't_ know anything about Craig. He didn't even know his real na-

Craig's eyes grew wide as he sat back up on his bed. Suddenly, he felt his entire body grow cold, as if all his blood drained out of him.

The bard had called him _Craig_.

"No he didn't," Craig audibly whispered to himself, "I'm remembering wrong."

He called him Feldspar. Or he didn't say his name at all. The human memory is a finicky thing, he was just getting paranoid about nothing. There was _no way_ he called him Craig. It would be impossible. There wasn't a person alive besides Clyde who knew his real name, that even _could_ know his real name. It would be impossible for _Craig_ to prove his true identity even if he wanted to.

Maybe _he_ was the one who was finally losing it. He sighed, rubbing his eyes rougher than he should. With a deep breath, he laid back down. It was a struggle, but he forced himself to clear his mind and sleep the day away.

Craig awoke a few hours later to the sound of his door swinging open.

"What are you doing asleep?" Clyde asked. He swung his sack harshly towards his bed but missed, instead loudly hitting the wall besides it and spilling over. He still seemed pissed off. Great.

"Bad day," Craig rubbed his eyes as he continued laying down.

" _You_ had a bad day?"

"Clyde, don't even start," Craig squeezed his eyes shut and rolled back over. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"Don't even start _what_?"

" _Goddammit_ Clyde," Craig gritted his teeth, sitting up, "Why are you _always_ like this? I-"

Craig gasped. It was only then he saw Clyde's face clearly.

He had a swollen black eye and bruises around his cheek. His lip was torn, blood still dripping down from it. It was clear someone clearly had their way with his face.

Craig jumped up from his bed and guided Clyde to sit down on his bed. He then quickly fetched a wet rag to press against his bleeding lip.

"What the hell _happened_ to you?" Craig asked, pressing the rag against the cut. Clyde flinched like the weak cry baby he was.

"The Grand Wizard decided that he wanted to use me as combat practice for his new knight recruits. Fucking asshole." His voice was clearly strained.

"You know, Bebe's worried about you," Craig found himself letting out, as if he had no self-control over his words, "She came by today. That was annoying."

Clyde's eyes grew even wetter than they had previously been.

"C'mon dude, don't be such a crybaby," Craig joked as he pressed the rag against his mouth once more. His joke didn't help.

"I don't know what I should do about her," Clyde sighed, trying to quickly and nonchalantly wipe his eyes.

"You know I don't care."

"I know," Clyde attempted to smile, but then grimaced in pain as it stressed his cut, "You've always been a heartless, conscienceless asshole."

"That's why you need me."

"I am still pissed at you though."

"That's fine," Craig got up and dropped the bloody rag into the dirty pile of clothes and clothing-far higher than it should be due to both of their unwillingness to do laundry. He then wandered to the kitchen section and quickly grabbed some dried fish they had saved and put them on two plates.

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat," Craig ordered, placing one plate on Clyde's lap.

"Do you think the Wizard will have me executed?"

"No," Craig said bluntly, dropping his own plate on their table and taking a seat.

"Are you sure?" Clyde asked again, hesitantly bringing a bite of the fish to his mouth.

"Yes," Craig said through a full mouth, "But with this, we really _do_ need to discuss our future plans to get out of the city. Out of Kupa. Soon."

"Alright," Clyde sighed.

Craig decided the next morning that he really needed to get out of his slump and get back into the swing of things. He arose earlier than he normally did, although still after Clyde had already departed. He ate a decent breakfast, tried to organize his things he had flown everywhere on his side of their place, and even went to the public bathhouse to clean himself.

The bathhouse was a much better place to distract himself than the tavern, he decided. People liked to awkwardly keep to themselves and pretend no one else was there. He didn't even have to deal with Red's nagging. He especially didn't have to worry about possibly running into that bard again.

To be fair, part of him _wanted_ to run into the bard again to get answers. Sure, a very, very, very small part of him that was vastly outweighed by the majority of him that hoped to never even have to _think_ about him again.

He sighed. He really had been slacking lately from allowing himself to get distracted. He needed to steal a diamond for a merchant-an extremely easy task, and yet it had been days already. His reputation was going to be in ruins if he didn't pick up the slack.

The tub he was in sure felt nice though. The water was actually warm for once, probably thanks to some rich person stopping by-they had to up their budget whenever actual money came. Most of the rich had their own tub in their giant houses, so it was a rare occurrence. He wished he could stay in it forever.

Still, all things must come to an end. That was a truth he had accepted long ago. With another sigh, he pulled himself out and got ready to actually start the day, starting with the diamond theft.

Stealing the diamond _was_ really simple. He was lucky, all he had to do with nonchalantly cut one from the studded scarf of some obsenely rich noblewoman that he noticed walk by. She wouldn't even notice it was missing. He considered stealing the whole thing just to spite her, but quickly decided against it, and instead made his way to the jeweler's shop.

"That took you longer than usual, Feldspar," the jeweler commented as he handed him the diamond. He was an older, skinny man that was mostly bald with the exception of wispy white strands of hair. He was always unpleasant, but a loyal customer regardless.

"I am a busy man," Craig lied, "There's ways to get higher on my priority."

"Or I'll find someone else," the jeweler retorted without missing a beat, analyzing the gem closely.

"Sure," he shrugged, "But could they do a better job than me?"

The jeweler huffed in annoyance, putting down the diamond. It was a very large, very expensive diamond. Better than what he _needed_ to get him because of course, Feldspar the Thief never disappoints.

"Take your money and get out," the jeweler tossed him the small bag containing his payment. Craig quickly looked inside. It was a very good amount, far better than he had even requested upon their agreement. Not as good as Lady Shelley's payment, but definitely the sign of a happy customer, regardless of his demeanor.

"I'll be seeing you then," Craig said as he pulled the bag shut and shoved it into his pocket.

"I said get out."

As Craig left, he realized he didn't know what to do next with his day. He knew he was slacking, but with a payment like that he really didn't _need_ to do anything else. He cleaned up, he took care of himself, he finished a job he already had. He should be proud of himself for doing what he did. Or so he tried to tell himself, as he found himself wandering towards the city square.

He sighed, sitting down at the fountain in the middle of the square. He really didn't like being in such a slump. This wasn't like him. He also didn't want to admit to himself that he was worried or that he was stressed out. That _especially_ wasn't like him. He pulled out a piece of bread he brought from home and idley began to eat it.

"Did you hear that the tavern wench is gonna be executed this afternoon?" Craig heard a townsman say to his friend, standing a few feet away from him.

"You can't be serious?" the other gasped. Craig's interest was piqued as well, wrapping back up his bread and putting it away to get a better listen.

"I am. Apparently she got caught knowingly harboring a spy from the High Elf Kingdom."

"Wait _what_?" Craig interrupted, not caring that he wasn't a part of the two strangers' conversation.

"Who are you?" one of the two asked, raising an eyebrow out of annoyance.

"What tavern are you talking about?" Craig continued, "Not Red's right? I mean, the one with the girl with the bright red hair and overly intrusive personality?"

There were many taverns in the city. Ordinarily, his mind would never go to Red's. Yet with that odd bard, he felt fear in his gut.

"Seriously who are you butting into our-"

"Yes, that one," the first townsperson interrupted his friend, "Rebecca Skeeter."

Craig's stomach dropped. He felt sick.

"Do you have any idea who the spy was?" Craig asked frantically yet trying to keep his tone even.

"I don't know much, mainly that he was able to get away."

"You heard _nothing_?" Craig found his voice getting louder than he wanted. He bit his lip to hold himself back.

"I dunno man, just some guy from out of town who was a spy."

"Do better than that."

"Uh," the man thought, "Oh! Apparently he walked with crutches and-"

It _was_ him.

Without bothering to thank the townsperson or listen to him continue, Craig found himself instantly running straight to the tavern. He ran fast, almost as fast as he did that day he ran from his village with Clyde. His mind didn't go back to that, however. All he could think about was the spy. The man at Red's tavern was a _spy_. The man who was at his meeting with the House of Marsh. The man who told him about how barbarians and elves were good people.

The man he could have sworn used his real name was a spy working for the High Elf Kingdom.

Not to mention, even if he was annoyed by Red much of the time, deep down, he didn't want her _executed_. Not for some piece of shit bard asshole.

He stopped right in front of the tavern. Or, what _was_ the tavern. It was all boarded up with a large number of armed and fully suited up knights surrounding the perimeters. Taverns got in trouble with the law all the time and executions in general were a pretty common occurrence, especially with a leader like the Grand Wizard. Yet this was different. It was as if they were guarding a building containing the legendary Stick of Truth his sister liked to go on about.

"What the hell is going on?" Craig asked one of the knights desperately. He didn't know what he expected the guard to tell him. He didn't even really know what he himself wanted to know.

The guard didn't respond.

"I _said_ what the hell is going on?"

Still no response. The guard only stood still, as if he were one of the knight statues in the garden. Craig balled his hands into fists.

"Feldspar!" a familiar female voice called from behind him, throwing him off guard. He turned away from the useless knight to see who it was.

Of course. It was Wendy Testaburger. She was not part of the perimeter, but naturally she _had_ to be there too.

"I hope you're here to tell me what the fuck is going on," Craig frowned at her.

"Feldspar, you really don't want to get involved with this." Craig could almost sense some compassion in her voice. She seemed _sad._ It pissed him off.

"Like hell _you know_ what I want to get involved with."

"Please, Felspar," she begged, "Red was my friend, too."

"Then why are you standing around here?" Craig shoved her, not caring that he would probably get in huge trouble for assaulting a knight. She _always_ pissed him off. Wendy was so loyal to this kingdom that she was going to just let her friend be executed. Knights were _always_ impersonal assholes who only cared about the law and/or their own glory.

Sure, he wasn't mainly here out of caring about Red-he made it his life goal to not make attachments to people who weren't Clyde. Yet, it still hurt a little more than he would like to admit. Not something he'd sob over, but something that sucked a lot. Wendy should be different.

"I'm not here for her," she looked him in the eyes, "I'm here for _you._ "

Craig let go of her, taking a step back. The compassion in her face intensified. He suddenly noticed that her eyes were red, as if she had been crying.

"Me?"

"It's about Clyde," she looked down. That wasn't like her. She was always at attention, always following protocol. Craig's heart started pounding.

"What about Clyde?"

"Even though I hate you and think you're a thieving probably-murderer who will only bring bad things to the kingdom, I still felt like I should tell you. It seemed like the right thing to do."

" _What the fuck about Clyde?_ " Craig demanded. His heart continued to pound hard and loud until he swore she and everyone else in close proximity could hear it beating.

"The Grand Wizard declared him banished from all of space and time."


	5. Chapter 4

" _So you're from that new family, huh?" Craig asked._

" _Um, I guess so," the boy said. He was young. Probably about Craig's own age but stockier and, healthier compared to his own malnourished self. The boy's brown hair was messy, but it was shiny. He wore a red shirt, unlike the usual dull brown sack cloth that was all that could be afforded by most of the people of Sundorham._

" _You don't seem like the rest of us," he commented, "I don't get why someone like you join our village."_

 _The boy looked confused, scared even. Too much so to answer._

" _I mean if you don't want to talk and fit in that's_ your _problem, new kid," Craig shrugged and turned back around to his own place._

" _I'm Clyde," the boy suddenly called out, trying to stop Craig from leaving._

" _I didn't ask_ who _you were," Craig turned around, "I asked_ why _you're here."_

" _Why are_ you _here?" the boy questioned back._

" _I was born here, obviously," Craig raised an eyebrow, amazed by how seemingly empty headed the other boy was. "Most of us are born here and don't have a choice. Not that it's any of your business, but my mom's an exception. She came here because she liked my dad or whatever. She had a reason. What's yours?"_

" _Um," the boy thought, "I guess because my mom died. My dad wanted us to have a safe, steady life or something."_

" _That's dumb."_

" _How's it dumb?" Clyde scrunched his face offendedly, "Who are you to say I don't belong here?"_

" _Chill out," Craig rolled his eyes, "I didn't say you don't_ belong _here."_

" _You said our reasons were dumb."_

" _That's different," Craig shrugged._

" _You seem like you don't like me being here," Clyde frowned._

" _Nah, it's a small village, hating you would just cause trouble," Craig explained, "And there aren't really other boys our age, so I should probably get to know you. You should learn to not offended by everything I say when I'm just trying to ask you stuff."_

 _The other boy's face lit up, "Does that mean you wanna be friends?"_

" _I haven't decided yet. If you don't annoy me too much, maybe."_

" _Oh thank god!" the boy's face instantly became flooded with tears of joy, "I was afraid I was going to be all alone here."_

" _I said_ maybe _."_

"You _promised_!" the crying girl grabbed his cloak where it wrapped around his neck. Her grip was so tight that it choked him.

"Bebe, you know that I-"

"Feldspar, don't even give me that _shit,_ " she rushed forward, grip still tight on him pushing him until he fell backwards. Her grip tight, she fell with him and pinned him down as she landed on top of him.

"Bebe," Craig let out weakly, using his elbows to try and support himself on the dirt road of the alleyway.

"You _promised_ you'd protect him," she sobbed, tears running flowing from her blue eyes. Her face, usually pale and blemishless was bright red from all the sobbing.

"Bebe, how do you think I _feel_ right now?" Craig found himself yelling, "You think I didn't want to protect Clyde? You think this isn't-" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

"How do you think _I_ feel?" she yelled back, pulling him up by his cloak, putting a lot of strain on his neck, " _Two_ people I care about. _Gone._ "

"I'm sorry."

Craig couldn't remember the last time he apologized for anything. But that didn't matter to him. A wave of guilt and melancholy flooded him.

Bebe loosened her grip. She continued to sob into his chest.

"I'm sorry, Bebe," he felt his voice crack, "I'm so, so, so sorry."

He sat still as he let her sob into his chest for a good amount of time. He wasn't sure how long. It felt as if all time had stopped anyway.

Craig didn't return to his apartment until it was already dark. He didn't really want to go back. He hoped a lightning bolt would strike the place down so he would never even be _able_ to go back. At least if it was dark, he wouldn't have to look at it as closely.

Still, he did. He walked up the same unstable stairs and opened the same shoddy door. It was a full moon, so it was far more lit than he had hoped. He wouldn't be able to get any sleep with his mind like this. He sighed, reaching for a candle for him to light on the middle table. In a small one-room place like this, a single candle illuminated it all too well. Clyde's side of the room was still just as he had left it the previous morning. One of his spare shirts was draped over his bed. It was red. Ever since they were children, he always liked wearing red.

Both of them were naturally messy people. Craig was the one who usually ended up cleaning, but it wasn't in his nature to do so.

He wasn't sure if cleaning up the mess Clyde had made would make him feel better or worse. Should he go through Clyde's things? Should he leave them just as he left them? Clyde didn't really like Craig going through his things, after all. To be fair, Craig felt the same about the reverse.

Craig decided against it, at least for now. He instead decided to sit at their table. Not to eat anything. He didn't think he could physically hold down food at the moment.

It was as he sat down that he noticed a speck of green poking out from under Clyde's blanket that had been half tossed on the floor. Craig stood up and picked it up. It was the stupid hat Clyde had gotten for him that he rejected.

Craig took off his own blue hat and tried it on, looking in their dull mirror. It looked absolutely ridiculous on him. It made the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. As dumb as the hat was, he decided he would keep it. Never to wear it, but hold onto it.

Craig did a back flop onto his bed.

"What are we gonna do Clyde?" Craig asked.

The room remained silent.

"C'mon dude, I know you can't _still_ be pissed at me," Craig continued, "We gotta figure this shit out."

" _I dunno, I've been kinda always looking to you for the plans."_

"Yeah well, what if it doesn't work out?" Craig's voice unexpectedly cracked.

" _Wait, are you saying you're doubting your own plan?"_

"What if you were right?" Craig squeezed his eyes shut, feeling wetness leak out of his eyelids, "What if I don't know what the fuck I'm doing?"

" _Craig, you're like the only person in this world I trust completely. More than Bebe, more than anyone. We're in this together."_

Craig's chest hurt, and his pounding chest made it feel like he had just run a marathon. It hurt. Everything hurt. He couldn't breathe.

"I can't do this Clyde."

Craig had never felt so alone. It was a crushing feeling. Like the negative space of the entire world was pushing down on him from all sides.

"Feldspar, open up!" was what Craig awoke to the next morning. He hadn't remembered falling asleep. His head hurt as if he were hungover, but he hadn't drinken anything the night before.

"Bebe?" he asked with an involuntary yawn.

"Hurry the hell up already!" she pounded the door harder. He sat up, rubbing his eyes worn out eyes. His body felt stiff from his unnatural sleeping position so he stretched himself before he stood up.

He tried to intentionally divert his gaze away from Clyde's side of the room. His gaze drifted to it for a split second, but he quickly snapped his head away and bit his lip.

He started to open the door slowly but Bebe swung it open and pushed right past him, making her way into his home. She had a forcefulness that completely disregarded him, like she had a plan.

Not only that, but Craig noticed that she was dressed differently than normal. She wore a red dress, which wasn't odd as red was her favorite color like Clyde, but it was much more simple and less intricate than what she normally wore. Yet despite that, the materials looked heavier, like they were far more expensive. Her long golden hair that she usually had down with frilly, intricate braids and headbands was now tied back in a single simple, yet elegant braided bun.

She was clearly dressed for formalities. Dressed to impress someone.

"We don't have time," she announced, "Get ready."

"What are you talking about?" Craig asked, ruffling his fingers through his messy bedhead.

"We're going to talk to the princess."

"The _princess?_ " Craig asked, raising an eyebrow.

"We're going to ask her to pardon Red and Clyde."

"Isn't Red already-" Craig found himself trailing off. Red's execution was scheduled for yesterday afternoon. It made his heart sink more than he thought it would.

"I don't know," Bebe bit her lip, "But you'd think if they did, she'd likely have a public execution. But there hasn't been one. So maybe…"

"Wait, hold up a second," Craig brought himself back to reality as he grabbed his hat that fell on the floor as he slept, "Even if she's not, you can't just get an audience with Princess Kenny like nothing."

"Yes I can."

"No you can't," Craig scoffed as he fitted the hat on his head. He didn't really care that the unwashed floor dirtied his hat.

"Yes I _can,_ " she frowned, sitting at the table defiantly.

"Bebe, pretending she's not royalty for a moment, have you seen the princess around the city lately?" he sat back down on his bed, "Has _anyone_ seen her? Especially since the Grand Wizard pretty much forced Princess Karen to get into some strategical marriage on the other side of Zaron."

"She loves Karen," Bebe looked down at her hands solemnly, "And she _was_ far too young to get married. But the Wizard-"

"See that's the thing!" Craig found himself standing back up, "The _Wizard_ is the one with all the power. He keeps Princess Kenny all locked away and out of sight so _he_ can be the one to be king. Why do you think despite her age she's _still_ only a princess?" 

"As a kid Princess Kenny always said she preferred the sound of that to Quee-"

"Bebe, she's a grown ass woman now."

"Listen, I know," Bebe bit her lip again and furrowed her pretty brows, "But Kenny was a good friend of mine. The Princess, Wendy, Red, and I were all friends growing up and..."

"Then why doesn't _Wendy_ do something? She is some high and mighty knight."

"You know she doesn't have that power or else she would," Bebe glared at him for the insinuation, "But the Crown Princess under Kupa Kingdom laws does. Kenny _must_ still remember all our times with Red, she wouldn't just sit back and let the Wizard...Anyway, she must value _me_ enough to help with Clyde-"

"Okay, say she does want to help us," Craig walked over to Bebe, "Say she _can_. How do you plan on getting an audience with her under the Grand Wizard's nose? He's the only one who sees her."

"That's not true," Bebe smiled, "There's one other person who we can get to her through."

"Okay, who?"

"Her paladin."

"I can't believe you're going to see the princess of all of Kupa wearing that," Bebe groaned at him as they headed towards the castle.

"This is what I always wear," Craig looked down at his outfit. He wore his normal mousey brown tunic shirt, brown cape that had the edges ripped from his altercation at the baker's, and recently stitched up black pants. He had his utility strap around his torso and the weapon he stole from the knight attached to his hip, just in case.

"That's what I mean," Bebe rolled her eyes. Craig scoffed. He even had new boots and red gloves that weren't cheap-if he actually paid for them, that is. Which he didn't.

"Does it really matter? I don't think the princess will refuse to help us out because she doesn't like my outfit."

"Well then, you've clearly never met her."

"Sounds like I'll hate her already."

"I actually think you'll like her," Bebe trailed off, "She's a very... _nontraditional_ princess."

"Like Shelly Marsh?" 

"Hell no," Bebe laughed, a surprising sound coming from someone so solemn that day, "She's very. Well, free spirited I guess. She didn't care about any of the rules of being a lady or a princess, but not like Shelly. Kenny wanted to dance around, drink with the men, and flirt with all of them too. She likes frilly princess things like taking care of her garden and her pet unicorn, but she also doesn't mind getting dirty and cussing like a sailor. Behind her pretty looks, she's actually really scrappy. Not to mention probably the best archer in the kingdom."

Craig blinked. All the imagery of the Princess Kenny was of a poised, proper, and extremely beautiful young lady.

"People aren't always how they appear, I guess."

Bebe looked back at Craig and gave another judgeful look at his clothes. "Seriously, you _do_ always appear like you don't give a fuck. Like what's this ugly cheap rock around your neck." She examined him closely, reaching for his pendant, "You should really get something better-"

"Don't touch that!" Craig smacked her hand away with more force than intended.

"Wow geez," she retracted her hand with a glare, "I didn't know it was important to you."

"It's none of your business."

Bebe sighed and continued walking in silence. The mood fell once more, grimly reminding Craig of the reason they were on this trek in the first place.

"I'm glad you're willing to stick your neck out to try and help Clyde," he finally let out, "I guess I underestimated you."

"I love him, you know."

It was then they reached the base of the castle. Technically, the entirety of the city was surrounded by walls and, by extension, the castle itself. However, at the far end of the city laid the distinct castle structure made up of the tallest, widest, and most intricate towers. It was where the Royal Family lived. Once upon a time the family was large and expansive. Now, of course, Princess Kenny was the only member.

Naturally, the Grand Wizard took up most of it. It was here that Clyde had to work the few days he lasted with him. It was here that Clyde would have been banished.

"Who are you?" a knight guarding the entrance asked as they approached the front gate.

"I am Bebe of House Stevens and this is my friend Feldspar," Bebe curtseyed. She kicked Craig under her dress to give him the hint to bow. He didn't want to, but he complied.

"State your purpose," the knight demanded. Craig could tell that the tall, foreboding knight was a total no-nonsense woman. Not the type who would be of much help.

"We wish to speak to the Paladin Leopold Stotch," Bebe said in an uncharacteristically diplomatic voice.

"For what purpose?" the knight eyed her.

"Personal business," Bebe explained.

"He's busy," she responded curty. Craig opened his mouth to object, but Bebe elbowed him.

"Well, he might be upset if he knew you didn't tell him that _I_ came by," Bebe cut Craig off, "The _princess_ might be upset to. We go _wayy_ back you see."

The knight scowled, but she slowly turned towards the entrance. "Wait here," she ordered.

"Is there something I should expect?" Craig whispered to Bebe as she disappeared.

"Nah, not with Butters," Bebe let out a strange grunt-laugh.

"Who is he exactly?" he asked. He didn't really care about his personal details, but given that two lives were on the line, he figured he should have a basic background.

"He's a Paladin. Basically, like, Princess Kenny's personal knight and bodyguard. He's been that since they were little kids. He's not really some strong, brave knight who you'd expect for the title of Paladin or whatever, but Princess Kenny likes him and thinks he's cute, so he's always stayed. Not to mention he's very easily manipulable, something that puts him in favor of the Grand Wizard."

"Couldn't that mean he would side with whatever the Wizard said?"

"Nah, he's pretty universally manipulable. Not just with the Wizard."

Craig didn't know how to take that information, instead silently waiting for the few minutes before the knight returned.

"Oh gosh, hello Bebe!" the paladin emerged with the knight, "It's been an awful long time since I've seen you around here. Why don't-Why don't you all come in?"

"Hey Butters," Bebe said in a tone Craig couldn't read. She grabbed Craig by the arm and followed him into the entryway of the castle.

The paladin- _Butters_ -was a relatively short, meek looking man with puffy yellow hair. He had a teal and green outfit on that looked to be a uniform, but was one Craig had never seen before. He could only guess that given what Bebe said about him being one of only two people who had regular contact with the princess that he must be important. Yet as he tripped over his words with Bebe as the two caught up, he found that hard to imagine.

The interior of the castle was far grander than any of the noble towers he had been in. It was decorated with grand art from all over the world, portraits of the McCormick dynasty for hundreds of years, with an alarming amount of art featuring the Grand Wizard.

But Craig didn't have time to care about those things. He was there for a reason.

"We need to speak to your princess. Immediately," Craig blurted out. Bebe glared at him.

"Oh gosh," Butters looked alarmed, "I'm not sure that's a real good idea."

"What do you mean?" Craig asked, "We need to see her. It's important."

"Well, you see, the princess hasn't really been seeing _anyone_ lately-"

"Not even me?" Bebe asked, "We _were_ such good friends, you know."

"Oh hamburgers," Butters stopped in his track, his face extremely full of concern, "I really shouldn't be saying anything. I-I'll get in a whole mess of trouble."

"Butters, are you being serious right now?" Bebe looked him dead in the eye, clearly completely done with his attitude, "One of my best fucking friends and the love of my life have been fucked over by the Grand Wizard and the only person who can help us out is my good, dear friend Princess Kenny."

"Oh boy," Butters bit his lip.

"Butters, I'm not playing," Bebe's voice cracked, and tears started forming around her eyes, "This is our only hope. _Their_ only hope. You can't...You _have_ to take us to her."

Butters stood still for a moment, nervously fondling his cape. He thought long and hard silently before he spoke.

"Alright fine," Butters finally said in the boldest tone of voice Craig had heard him use, "But don't come crying to me if you, um, don't like what happens."

The paladin's warning words sent a deep concern through the pit of Craig's stomach.

"Thank you," Bebe smiled slightly, wiping her tears with her wrist. Craig didn't get how she seemed so relieved.

Something about this didn't feel right to him.

"Okay, then uh, follow me," Butters said, signaling for the two to follow him down a new direction. He guided them not towards the grand staircase in the center of the grand, lavishly decorated ballroom that presumably led to the designated royal family's personal chambers. No, instead Butters led them down a hallway that was far less lit or decorated. He opened a regular wooden door containing a dark spiral staircase going up a tower.

"This way," Butters announced, about to ascend the stairs.

"Why is Princess Kenny up there?" Bebe asked puzzled.

"We're going to her lady's chambers."

"That's not where her bedroom is!" Bebe stepped back, "Her room was always the big one above the ballroom. She liked it because it had a view of both the garden and the stables."

"Yes, well, you see, His Excellency the Grand Wizard decided that it would be, uh, better if she took a room up in this tower," Butters stammered.

"But this is where servants always lived!" Bebe argued, her face growing in shock.

"Yes, well the Wizard-"

"Butters, cut the shit," Bebe cut him off.

"God, who _cares_? I really don't give a shit what sorta princessy room she lives in, I just wanna see her," Craig rolled his eyes. Bebe groaned but conceded.

"Right! So this way," Butters nervously scratched his neck as he trekked up the stairs.

Bebe looked more worried (as Craig thought she should) but she followed the paladin, carefully lifting her skirt to not trip on the dusty, worn stairs. Craig sighed and followed behind her, careful to not step on her skirt and trip both of them.

The stairs seemed to go on forever. Unlike the towers owned by the nobles such as the Marshes, there were no rooms in between, only a narrow cylinder of a tower seemingly completely covered by infinite stairs.

"Are we almost there?" Craig called out to Butters, who was quite a few meters above him. In his defense, it was due to being behind Bebe who was taking her good time with her flowy dress.

"Just a little more," he responded.

After what felt like forever, eventually the three reached a plain, wooden door a the top of the tower. Butters cleared his throat and knocked three times.

"Uh, Princess. It's me...Butters," he called, nervousness in his voice, "Bebe and her friend are here to see you."

There was no response. Butters audibly gulped and slowly pushed open the door anyway.

When the door opened revealing the room, Craig was instantly overwhelmed. It was not at all the classy and elegant sort of royal, princess room he expected. It was also not some dark dungeon sort of place he also feared the Wizard locked her up in. Instead, it looked like the princess's unicorn puked rainbows and pink shit all over it.

It was very pink and purple. The walls, the ceiling, everything. It was covered in tacky artwork with rainbows and unicorns. The bed was in the center, big and covered in blankets in various shades of pink, littered with stuffed animals. The whole _room_ was littered with dolls and stuffed animals.

The princess was sitting on the floor, on top of a purple rug, facing away from them. Her long golden hair was tied into two ponytails on either side, with a silky white ribbon intricately braided into each, and a solid gold tiara placed on top of her head. Her gown was white and purple, made of what looked like the most expensive silk in Zaron.

"Princess Kenny!" Bebe called for her friend excitedly, "It's been so long!"

The princess continued to sit still without turning towards them. The oddness of it gave Craig chills.

"Kenny?" Bebe asked again, walking towards her sitting friend, more cautiously. Slowly, she reached out one of her arms to touch her on the shoulder.

Butters stepped forward, "I wouldn't if I were-"

As soon as Bebe's hand landed on the princess's shoulder, her head snapped around, looking directly at Bebe.

Craig was taken aback, he probably would have knocked himself over, had a wall not been directly behind him. This was wrong. This was very, very wrong. His jaw dropped, forcing himself to instantly close it.

The princess's skin was _green._ Her eyes, which were always famous for being the most delicate and beautiful shade of baby blue were completely grayed over and bloodshot. This wasn't normal. Something was physically very wrong with her.

Her expression was not of one excited to see her long lost friend.

Immediately, Princess Kenny stood up, her expression twisted and inhuman. She bared her teeth, unnaturally sharp and looked as though she was about to lunge for Bebe's throat!

"NO!" Butters screamed, ramming himself into the princess, knocking her down. The princess's long and flowy skirt, not at all fitting of her current demeanor, flew up as the two fell to the ground.

"C'mon Princess, don't do this," Butters pleaded, "You remember Bebe, don't you? She's your- _our_ friend!"

For some reason, Princess Kenny's expression was softer towards Butters. Clearly, Butters had no fear of her, knowing she wouldn't hurt him. Still, she didn't answer him.

"You remember Red, right Princess?" Butters asked, "That's why Bebe's here. She wants you to save Red."

She still didn't respond. She only looked at Butters blankly.

"They're gonna kill Red, Kenny," Butters told her in a gentle yet serious voice, "Only you can pardon her."

"This is a waste of time. This isn't going to go anywhere," Craig announced. He hadn't expected the to princess have turned into some green goblin or zombie or something. Because honestly, given his luck lately, the ridiculousness of it hadn't surprised him as much as it should have.

Slowly he looked to Bebe. Tears were streaming down her face.

"Who did this to you?" she asked through her sobs.

"We think someone tried to poison her," Butters said, still on top of the princess, "Or cursed her. But she didn't die. Instead she turned into…"

"Did you get whoever did it?" Craig asked.

"No," Butters let his head fall, "We have no leads. She won't talk. I'm the only person she doesn't outwardly try to attack."

"Even the Wizard?" he added. He noticed the word "wizard" triggered something in the princess, causing her to shake violently and resist against Butters.

"She tries to attack the Wiz- _him_ more than anyone. Sometimes the closest she gets to words I could swear she's trying to say his name. Whenever he so much as enters the palace, even though she's far away, she loses it. He ordered us to lock her away up here."

"Well then it's obvious then," Craig said in as casual of a voice as he could, sitting down on the princess's bed, despite feeling as if a rock had been dropped into his stomach, "It explains how both the Queen and King died of mysterious illnesses suddenly only a couple years apart. It explains why he convinced Princess Kenny to completely banish Prince Kevin despite her being perfectly content with him living in the castle the rest of his days. It explains why he demanded Princess Karen get married to a prince in the opposite side of Zaron when she was only 14 years old. The Wizard attempted to murder Princess Kenny but for whatever reason she's unable to die. He wants to get rid of the entire House of McCormick so that he can claim the throne for himself."

Princess Kenny didn't shake violently like she had before. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at Craig, almost as if knowingly. It was enough to confirm the theory to him. Bebe continued to sob, her head turned away from the princess.

"So she won't be able to help us with Clyde or Red," Craig added, his blood turning ice cold. Butters opened his mouth to speak but then simply closed it, hanging his head.

"I'm sorry, Feldspar, this was a mistake," Bebe swallowed, wiping her eyes with her wrists.

"It's fine, I-"

"SHH!" Butters suddenly jerked. The princess's anger also raised.

"What?" Craig stood up.

"Oh boy, oh geez," Butters bit his lip anxiously.

" _What?!"_ Craig demanded.

"Oh boy, the Wizard is coming here."

"How do you know that?" Bebe asked.

Butters pointed to his headband with the red stone in the middle. It was now brightly aglow, getting brighter and brighter every moment. Likewise, the princess got more and more manic.

"It's enchanted," he explained, "The Wizard had it set so it glows the closer he is to me so I know to not embarrass him when he sees me. And oh boy is he going to be _furious_ when he finds out I brought you two here!"

"Then let's get the fuck out of here!" Craig straightened up, reaching for Bebe.

"He's already coming up the stairs."

"Then the window!" Craig was good at scaling buildings like this. Sure, Bebe would be a struggle, but it was worth a try.

"Even if you did manage to scale it, people would see you."

"Then we'll fucking hide!" Craig grabbed Bebe by the arm and looked around the room. He was a good hider from his line of work. Under the bed were already trunks and all sorts of things that wouldn't fit them and they both wouldn't fit in the dresser with all of the princess's floofy dresses. Eventually, he notice an especially large pile of dolls and stuffed animals against one corner, and pulled Bebe towards it, carefully fully covering both of them with it. There were small cracks in between that allowed the two to see out.

The princess made more and more grunts, resisting against Butters. She was very forceful, but it was clear she made an effort not to hurt him.

Finally he arrived.

Craig already knew he was absolutely nothing like the narcissistic statues and artwork made of him. Unlike artistic depictions that had him buff and tall, he was a very overweight man of probably average height, if he were to be generous. Craig wondered if his tall pointy blue hat was to compensate for that. He didn't carry himself in a dignified way that all other royals did, but instead had big, heavy steps. Two fully armored knights stood behind him, blocking the door.

"Butters, what the hell are you doing? I asked you to guard the south gate."

"Well uh, sir, I-"

"Butters, why are you so lame and never listen to me? Stand up!"

The princess was violently shaking under Butters, trying to go for the Wizard. Butters gulped, "Um, sir, I don't know if that's a good ide-"

"Butters, goddammit, I said _stand_!"

Gradually, Butters let go of Princess Kenny, sliding off of her. Carefully, he stood up.

Immediately after, the princess lunged teeth first at the Wizard. Without missing a beat, he raised the brown staff he had been carrying and shot out a white light, immediately freezing her in her place.

"I heard Bebe and some random other nobody tried to see you today," the Wizard lowered his staff and safely walked right past the incapacitated princess, "What did they want?"

"Um, well they wanted to see me and-"

"I swear to god Butters, you better not fucking lie to me or so help me."

"Uhh, well, they wanted to see Princess Kenny, sir," Butters nervously scratched his neck.

"And what for?"

"Uhh, I sent them away, obviously. I told them she couldn't be bothered."

"Butters, seriously? I didn't ask that. I asked _why_ they wanted to see her," the Wizard facepalmed in frustration.

"Oh uh...um," Butters stammered, "Uh, I think something about Red. _I mean_ , Rebecca Skeeter. Umm, they were hoping she would help her or something…I think."

The Wizard smiled, signalining to his knights. "You mean her?"

The knights turned, with a third, previously unseen knight behind them pushing forth a familiar red-haired girl, dropping to the ground a little before Princess Kenny.

Red was still wearing her usual tavern dress, but it was dirty and tattered now. Her red hair was also messy, clearly having not been washed or brushed for days. Her mouth was gagged and her hands were tied behind her back. Most frighteningly, her face and all other visible skin were littered with bruises and cuts. She had been tortured. Bebe cupped her hands over her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. Although the princess was incapable of moving under the Wizard's spell, Craig could almost swear he could see her twitching.

Yet despite what she had clearly been through, Red sat herself up and kept her chin up high, her eyes glaring defiantly. The Wizard took off her gag. Red immediately spat at him, causing him to hit her in the head with his staff. She hit the floor hard, but immediately forced herself back up into the sitting position. It was clear she hadn't been broken.

"You've always been a bitch, Red," the Wizard scowled, wiping the spit off of his burgundy cloak with irritation. Red's nose was bleeding from what looked like a very painful blow, but she still managed to smile defiantly.

"How's the zombie life treating you," Red asked the incapacitated princess. The Wizard hit her again.

"W-Why did you do this to her?" Butters asked. Craig looked over to him. He wasn't a tall man, but he somehow looked even shorter. Meak, weak, unable to know what he should do, what he _could_ do. Craig just hoped that his supposed easily manipulated demeanor wouldn't cause him to betray Bebe and him.

"Because she's a fucking traitor, Butters. She was helping the fucking _elves_. She has been all along, and even helped get a fucking spy through our city walls." Red closed her eyes saying nothing, keeping her expression blank and unreadable.

"W-Why did you bring her _here_?" Butters continued, forcing himself to not look at the tattered girl and instead at the Wizard, "You know this'll upset Princess Ke-"

"This lying traitor was _her friend_. Why was Kenny friends with some lowly tavern bitch anyway? There's some really fucking shady shit going on in my kingdom lately. The elves are fucking sneaky assholes _already_ stole _my_ fucking stick and now want to compromise _my_ kingdom with their shitty spies. I need to fucking know how deep this goes."

Craig felt his stomach fall. The Wizard referred to a "stick".

"You know the Princess can't-"

"I don't believe for one fucking minute that she knows nothing. I really think she's trying to be sneaky and just pretending to be some mindless zombie. I want my fucking Stick of Truth back!"

Craig was going to be sick.

Red's gaze looked sad, as she stared at the princess. Craig didn't like to be overly empathetic towards other people's problems, as it only complicated things. Yet, he could only imagine how he would feel if Clyde had this done to him. He found himself inhaling deeply.

"This has nothing to do with her," Red spoke for the first time, still looking at the princess. Her voice was dry and cracked from dehydration, but not at all weak.

"Why should I believe anything you say, traitor? Of course you would want to defend her."

"I'm sorry the Wizard did this to you Princess," Red said, ignoring the Wizard's words, "I'm sorry we let him to you. I wish we- _I_ could have protected you."

"That's it, you don't get to live another minute, traitor," the Wizard announced, pointing his staff to her head.

Red took a deep breath, accepting this. She slowly looked around the room, the last place she knew she was going to see.

Her eyes stopped just where Craig and Bebe were hiding. Craig was barely visible through the cracks, but her eyes widened with shock as hers met his. Then they narrowed, and she gave a knowing smile to him.

It was the exact same knowing look Jimmy had given to him back at the Marsh's place.

A moment later, the Wizard cast another bright light from his staff, killing her instantly.

Craig had to practically dive to cup Bebe's mouth with his hands to prevent her from screaming. He could feel his hands getting soaked by her tears. It was a miracle that he was able to do this without knocking down their hiding space, revealing them.

After Red fell to the floor limply, the Wizard angrily signaled his three knights and Butters to leave, the five descending back down the tower. As soon as the door slammed behind them, Princess Kenny's spell broke, limply falling to the floor. Bebe instantly pushed off all the stuffed toys and ran to her fallen friend. Craig wished she hadn't done that, in case the others could still hear, but he followed out.

The Princess was asleep, he noticed. Probably some charm. It made Craig realize that the Wizard could have done that all along for his safety. The sick asshole wanted to make sure the princess was awake and watching everything while he was there. He _wanted_ her to see her friend Red die.

He knew the Wizard was a sick man, but he never knew just how far it went.

"Rebecca, _please_ ," Bebe sobbed to her, cupping her friend's head in her arms as she sobbed. Of course her pleas would be for not.

"I'm sorry," Craig told her. This was the second instance he was giving an apology in the past couple days.

Red wasn't his priority when he set out today. She wasn't exactly a friend, he often considered her a nuisance. She always put her nose in other people's business, which made him irritated. She always had to know everything. She always had to speak about the outside world, of happy faraway kingdoms with magic and wonder, bullshit that Craig didn't want to hear. Of course she would fall victim to the ways of some out of town spy. She probably _did_ know he was one and _did_ knowingly take him in.. She probably thought it was some cool adventure, like she would probably be a part of something, even if it meant siding with the elves.

Still, he didn't want her to die. He didn't hate her. Despite everything, despite his contrarian outlook, he always went back to her tavern. He always struck up a conversation with her. He never wanted to admit to himself why, but deep down he always knew.

She reminded him so much of his sister that it hurt.

"What are we going to do?" Bebe sobbed to him.

Craig sat back down on the bed, trying to clear his head. His thoughts felt like they were going a million miles a minute. He closed his eyes to try and focus.

Through the mess of everything, two things were abundantly clear to him.

First, he wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason why the Wizard killed Red in this way was because he knew they wanted Princess Kenny to pardon her. Red and her were friends. It was intentionally cruel, crueler than a public execution. Even if she wasn't the way she was now, she never could have helped them.

The Wizard was not the type of person who would help free Clyde.

Second, he nauseously recalled the Wizard talking about a stick that was stolen. He didn't want to believe that it was real. He had spent his entire life in denial that it could be, brushing it off as some silly fairytale. Official stories always said it was fake.

Yet he couldn't imagine a reason for the Wizard to say such a thing unless it was.

This meant that the Elven Kingdom that brutally murdered all of his family, his entire town, had the most powerful object in all of Zaron.

He wasn't sure which of those two facts sickened him more.

There was very little he could do about the faraway High Elf Kingdom having the Stick of Truth. As much as it sickened him, he needed to push that out of his priority list. He mentally crossed that out.

Clyde had to be his priority. He should think through his options with that.

He wasn't going to be able to save Clyde. At least not with the Wizard as he was. The Princess couldn't be of any help even if she was cured. She would only be able to be of help if the Wizard was gone.

He opened his eyes. That could be it. It was crazy, but suddenly as the rage built up inside of him, he felt like it was the only thing he _wanted_ to do.

"Well, Feldspar?" Bebe managed through her tears.

"I'm going to kill the Grand Wizard."


	6. Chapter 5

He wasn't sure what he was going to do.

He knew that he wasn't being smart. While he was the type who liked to stay on his toes, play things by ear, and be adaptable to his situations. He always liked to have a clear outline of a plan with various options.

All he knew was that he was going to kill the Grand Wizard. He _had_ to.

It was too late for Red. Sure, he never trusted her for a moment of his life. He never let himself care about her too much. Still, he didn't want her to _die._

But it wasn't too late for Clyde. He could still be saved. He could still be _free_.

Craig and Clyde, free from this awful city. Free from this awful kingdom. Free to finally build what they had so desperately wanted for so long.

He realized his fantasies were uncharacteristically hopeful for him. Perhaps he was so far down that he needed some semblance of hope. But now all he could _afford_ to pin his hopes on was the look the Wizard's face when he finally slit his throat.

In the back of his mind, a voice screamed that he was being stupid. There was no way he could take down the Grand Wizard. He wouldn't be able to even come near him.

Not only did the voice in his head tell him this, but so did a physical one.

"Feldspar, please don't do this!" Bebe cried, as she visited his place once more in an attempt to stop him, "You know you would just get caught. I'd only lose you too. Please don't do this, I've already lost too much."

"Don't act like I mean anything to you," he rolled his eyes as he started to close the door on her.

"Only because you don't let me!" she yelled, grabbing his wrist that reached for the door, "Only Clyde. Not Red, not me, not _anyone_ else. Don't throw away your life like this-Clyde wouldn't want-"

"Don't act like you know what Clyde wants," Craig pushed her hand away, "You don't know what he wants. _No one_ knows what he wants except for me."

She slowly brought both her hands to her sides, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Fine then," she said in a calm voice, "Do your useless suicide mission. See if I care once you're gone. See if _anyone_ cares."

"Well, I can't do that if I'm _dead_ , now can I?" he scoffed.

Bebe glared at him. It was clear she was finished trying with him. Without another word, she left, slamming his own door in his face.

Craig could hear her footsteps as she stomped away down the stairs, gradually growing softer and softer until they finally disappeared. When he heard she was gone, he punched the door, nearly breaking it apart from its hinges. He pushed his back to the wall and slid down to sit on the floor. His head hurt. He tangled his fingers in his hair beneath his hat.

Bebe was right. He knew she was. And yet, that still didn't change his mind in the slightest.

Craig was a logical person. In fact, others often said he was overly logical to a fault. He always liked to go with the most reasonable course of action, even if it was not the one with the highest potential.

He had _also_ gone through tragedy and hardship no one in this spoiled city could ever dream of. Yet it was always okay because, despite everything, he always had Clyde at his side. Without him, he felt like he was going to puke.

Clyde was counting on him. He was alive out there, waiting for him.

Legs shaking, Craig forced himself to stand back up. He gripped the stolen knight's blade tightly in his hand. He knew he should just get it over with. Three days had passed already and he hadn't actually done anything.

Maybe he was simply overthinking it. It was a job, like any other. It would be like a job to pickpocket him. Only, instead of reaching his hand into his pocket, he would be shoving a blade into his vital organs. With that perspective on his mind, he opened the door Bebe had slammed in his face and went down the stairs.

Feldspar was a thief. Not an assassin. Over the years he often got many job offers to kill, often for extremely high wages. Yet he always turned them down. It wasn't that he didn't think that a lot of the people weren't scum who probably _deserved_ to be killed, but that wasn't the path he had decided to go down-workwise anyway. Not to mention, he already had Wendy Testaburger on him trying to pin him down for a murder.

Still, he always thought he hypothetically would make a good assassin. He was good at being covert and under the radar. He was good at sneaking up behind people. He was good at leaving no trace of his presence. He wasn't classically trained in combat like a knight, but he thought of himself as capable in hand to hand combat and pretty handy with a short blade or knife.

Of course, all of that would be useless against someone with all the magic in the world. He would have to use his stealth method. Sneak up on him in his chambers and stab him from behind. He tried to tell himself that even if he was caught, if it was a spell that was cast on Princess Kenny it would surely break and she would no doubt pardon him and order Clyde freed as thanks. Or, at the very least, even if he was killed in retaliation, the Princess would still free Clyde. Which was what really mattered.

It was easy. It would be easy. He could do it.

Yet when he finally reached the castle he felt his stomach drop to the ground.

But he had already made it this far. No turning back now.

He examined the castle's exterior the best he could. He had already been in it, so it wasn't like he was going in blind. He made sure the last time he went to the palace to pay attention to all the important details he could. As soon as he entered it with Bebe, he made sure he paid attention to every guard, every window, anything that could help him in future scenarios. But then, that was second nature for him _anywhere_ he went over the years.

He knew the tallest tower housed the zombified princess. He knew the Royal Family's chambers were once above the grand staircase, likely where the Grand Wizard himself now lived. He also knew that there must be separate staircases for the help that would be more stealth for him to use. He also noticed a very sparse amount of knights and servants within the palace itself.

The guard at the front gate was different from the lady before. It was a young man this time, far more relaxed in stature. Craig was relieved. The woman was a hardass, but he would probably be much easier to get past. He would still have to think of a plan, but the advantage was his. He stared at the man a little longer. His initial plan was to sneak past any guard, but now he wondered if he should use an alternative method.

"Excuse me," Craig approached the guard casually.

Craig stopped himself. This plan of action meant he was going to be seen. It meant he could be later identified.

Well, it's not like he wasn't likely to get caught anyway, successful or otherwise.

"What're you supposed to be?" the guard asked with a crooked smile, raising his eyebrow. He had a very casual, laid back tone as Craig had expected and hoped he would. He would use this for his advantage.

"Is Butters around?" he asked in a monotone voice, feigning annoyance, "He said he'd meet me in the town square an hour ago."

"Butters-oh, ya mean that Paladin guy. Leopold, yeah?"

"Yup."

"Oh man he's a total airhead, that one. I saw him wander into the palace not long ago."

"Typical," Craig groaned, rubbing his temple.

"What did ya need _him_ for anyways?" the guard asked.

"Important bullshit," Craig groaned, "I mean, it's important, but it's also total bullshit. You know how it is."

"Unfortunately," the guard laughed, "Want me to get 'em called over for ya?"

"Nah, he'd probably just make an excuse again," Craig frowned, "He _always_ does. He's been avoiding me for fucking weeks now, always coming up with some excuse. I mean, we're good friends and all, but when it comes to actual important stuff he _always_ does this shit to me. That's why I wanted to come here to try and corner him."

"Ah whatever, I probably shouldn't let you in, but no one's around. Just be quick and try and drag him out, okay?" the guard shrugged.

"Thanks man," Craig smiled, flipping the guard a gold coin in good measure, "I was thinking he'd be in the Wizard's chambers in the...second floor of east tower, wasn't it?"

" _West_ tower," the guard caught the coin with a smirk, "But no, I think he's back out in the inner courtyard."

"Thanks."

Craig walked towards the hall that would lead courtyard in case he was being watched, but then stopped. That guard was dumber than he expected. It was a wonder how the Grand Wizard hadn't _already_ been executed yet. Craig sighed, letting his knife slip down his sleeve from which he hid it into the grasp of his hand.

It was known he was here, so he would have to be quick.

He pressed his back to the wall. He was really doing this. No going back now.

Everyone knew the Grand Wizard was a lazy piece of shit. No doubt he would be in his bed chambers, probably fast asleep. He would slip into his room and press his knife against his fat throat. He would be dead before he even knew what hit him.

There would almost definitely be guards at his door, however. Probably at least two fully armed and suited up knights. Undoubtedly more ept that that dumb asshole at the entrance. They wouldn't just let him pass and even if they would wake the Wizard first. They would have his eyes on him the entire time.

The easiest way would be to sneak in from above or below. Risky, but there wasn't really an alternative. Below would be where any servants would be located, while above would be less likely to have anyone around. So above it was.

He made his way up the a winding staircase used for servants, avoiding the far more obvious grand staircase. It was nicer than that of the dreary staircase that led to the princess, but there was still a noticeable difference from the lavish decorations of the rest of the palace.

Craig pressed himself as closely to the wall as possible, hoping desperately that no servants were to pass him. He was always quite talented at walking slowly among the shadows-without a sound, without a presence. He carefully looked across the hallway when he reached the second floor of the tower. As he expected, two fully armed knights stood at a large doorway, all but confirming the bedroom of the Wizard.

With a small relieved sigh, he carefully and silently continued on up the winding staircase.

He made sure he examined the palace from the outside, so he knew exactly where all the windows were as well as the general layout of the palace. However, he knew that swinging from one window to another would almost definitely lead him to being seen from the outside, and even if he wasn't, the shattering of glass would be heard.

The floors would be too thick to cut through. Not to mention, once again, loud.

He didn't need either, however. He knew exactly what he was going to do.

It was rumored that there was a dumbwaiter that went between the two princesses' rooms. Princess Kenny claimed she wanted food to be delivered directly to her chambers, but it was said it was more frequently used for the two princesses to send each other secret messages.

It was just a rumor, but Craig believed it.

With the royal family gone, the third floor of the palace was vacant. It was sparsely decorated, and looked like it hadn't been dusted or tidied up in quite a long time. More like an abandoned attic, with dusty old tables and chairs than a once great wing of a palace that housed royalty for centuries.

With light footsteps, he went into the bedroom that would be directly above that of the Wizard's, hoping at praying that it not only existed, but that the Wizard did in fact claim one of the princesses rooms.

The bedroom was dusty and there was no lighting, yet he could still see that it was very soft and pink. Not littered with various things like that of Princess Kenny's prison. Much more subtle. More warm and loving. Like a lot of thought and care went into decorating the room, making sure that whoever lived there knew that they were loved.

It had to have been Princess Karen's room.

He didn't have time, but he found himself wanting to look closely at the room. For the most part, he knew that he was stalling, but he couldn't help but always be reminded of his sister. Karen was about the same age Tricia would be. If they were born into this life-

Craig found himself staring at a large painting over the light pink canopy bed. It featured the three royal children. An aloof Prince Kevin stood to the right looking off to the distance away from the painter, wearing princely garbs that even the painting made obvious were awkward on him. To his right, on the left side of the painting stood a much younger, young teenage Princess Kenny, smiling at a very young Princess Karen who stood in the center, an arm on her shoulder. The two princesses were both very beautiful.

He was definitely stalling.

He gripped his blade firmly in his hand and wandered to the far walls, looking for the supposed dumbwaiter. He pressed against the wall, unsure if it was hidden for security reasons. Finally, he realized what it was. It was a white little doorway that looked like a little cabinet. He opened it slowly and he could see the long rope going down below.

He waited a few seconds to see if it was in use. He wouldn't be surprised if the Wizard was using it frequently for fresh food from the kitchen. When he saw that nothing changed, he very slowly and carefully pulled the platform up.

The dumbwaiter was for food, not humans. He wasn't sure how much weight it could carry. If the rope snapped, this could end very badly. Still, he didn't exactly have other options and he knew the risks he was taking here anyway. With a deep breath, he pushed himself up and slowly slid onto the small platform.

He didn't budge. He let out a sigh of relief. This was it.

 _This was it_.

His heart began pounding. Suddenly, the gravity of the situation hit him. He was mere moments away from a near suicide mission to kill the Grand Wizard Eric Theodore Cartman himself. He was going to try and covertly kill the most powerful being in all of Zaron. Even if he got away with it, the odds of him being quickly killed in revenge by his knights would be high. He hadn't even bothered to think of an escape plan.

He squeezed his eyes shut. This was to save Clyde. To get Clyde free from the terrible solitude of banishment, to allow Clyde to live out his dreams.

For Clyde, it was worth it.

He tried to take a deep breath, but he found himself nearly panting. This wasn't like him. He had to maintain focus, to be completely on the top of his game to succeed.

He attempted his deep breath again, slightly more successful this time. Good enough. With trembling hands, he slowly used the rope to lower himself down.

As he reached the second floor, he noticed the the door to the dumbwaiter was partially ajar. He was worried about how he was going to open it from the inside. He sat still and listened. He could hear the Wizard loudly snoring

A sick feeling rose up in him. How this was all so _easy_. _Too_ easy. The guard who so naively let him in on his own, the lack of staff running into him, a dumbwaiter that was far too convenient-

He balled his free hand into a fist. He had no time to think about that right now. This was it.

Carefully, to avoid a squeaking sound of the door, he slowly pushed it open and very gently lowered himself to the floor. His hand tightened once more around the blade as he ever so carefully walked to the Wizard's bed where he so clearly laid. He took the smallest steps he ever had in his life, careful to make steps and breaths quiet enough to not disturb even the world's lightest sleeper. If only his pounding chest got the message.

After what felt like forever, he finally approached the large bed. The sleeping Wizard was facing away from him, towards the wall that which the bed was pressed against. No matter, Craig could carefully climb onto the bed and get the right angle to slit his throat.

Biting his lip, he carefully put his first knee on the bed, careful to not at all shift the mattress itself. It was soft, just like he expected royalty to sleep on. Not that he had time to dwell on that now. Instead, he carefully analyzed the movements of the Wizard to make sure he didn't wake him.

Slowly, he lifted his other leg up onto the bed, shifting the mattress a little more than he would have liked, instantly causing him to panic. The Wizard, however, only responded with another loud snore.

Very carefully, he shifted himself closer and closer to the Wizard on the massive mattress. He now gripped the blade with both hands, leaning further and further over to the Wizard.

Trying his luck, Craig gently let one hand touch the shoulder of the Wizard, gently guiding his body to lay down on his back, where he could get the best stabbing angle. The deep sleeping Wizard complied, rolling over with a light thump.

The Wizard was an ugly man, even in sleep.

He was ugly through and through. He turned Princess Kenny into a monster, ruined her family, murdered Red, banished Clyde.

A tear began forming in Craig's eyes. He didn't like to cry, and he hated that this man made him feel such negative emotions.

He hated this man more than he had ever hated another living soul.

With a sharp inhale, he grasped the blade with both hands above his head. He swung his arms down as hard as he could, aiming straight for the Wizard's neck.

It was quicker than a second.

Yet, somehow within that second came out a flash of light. The Wizard's eyes swung wide open with a glow. Not even sure what was happening, the flash of light blasted Craig, blasted him away from the Wizard and against the wall on the other side of the room.

Or at least, that's what he figured had happened. He was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

Craig figured that he died. That bright flash of light must have killed him. He wasn't really that upset by the concept. Annoyed, maybe, but not devastated.

He kind of figured he was going to die anyway, afterall. Still, he really wanted to succeed in killing the Wizard.

What would this mean for Clyde now?

Could he even tell in whatever stupid afterlife existed? Would he be doomed forever to know that he failed but would never know if Clyde ever became free?

It pissed him off.

" _Feldspar,"_ a voice called out.

Well, maybe the afterlife at the very least wasn't going to be solitary loneliness for all of eternity. Given the name called out, he could only guess that it was Red. He groaned. He honestly wouldn't have minded crushing solitude for all eternity if it meant he'd be left alone from annoying chatter.

" _Feldspar, get up!"_ a voice called out in the darkness again. It didn't really _sound_ like Red. He also realized he physically didn't know how to respond. He couldn't exactly find himself in the darkness that consumed him.

" _Please wake up,"_ the voice pleaded once more.

Those words sent a jolt into Craig. _"Wake up."_ That would imply he wasn't dead. It wouldn't make much sense, there's no reason, even if that blast didn't kill him, that he wouldn't immediately be killed right after for the red handed murder attempt.

Still, if he was alive, that would mean he still had a fighting chance. He could still make things right. He should try to "wake up".

He tried to find himself in the darkness.

" _Feldspar can you hear me?"_

The voice wasn't Red, but it was definitely female. He could tell that the words were definitely spoken directly into his ears.

It was then that he realized the words made his ears _burn_. They sent shocks directly into his head, triggering an awful headache.

He was in pain. His head felt like it was going to explode.

"Come on," she pleaded once more. He could tell she was touching him. He could also tell that every muscle in his body ached.

He tried to respond, but only let out pained groans. With great struggle, he opened his eyes, nearly blinded by the light, even though it was very dim.

"You're awake!" Wendy Testaburger exclaimed.

He tried to speak again, but once more couldn't through the aching pain. He quickly regretted waking up.

"You got hexxed," she explained, removing a wet rag he hadn't realized was placed on his head, "I mean, it's kind of what you get for trying to assassinate the Grand Wizard. But it will wear off within the next day or so."

"Wh-Where am I?" Craig finally managed, unintentionally biting the inside of his mouth hard enough to bleed in the process.

"In the dungeon, where else?" Wendy rolled her eyes. She dipped the rag into a bowl of liquid and placed it back on his head.

"Wh-Why are you-"

"Bebe asked me to check on you. Make sure you weren't rotting away, especially given that you were thrown in here unconscious a couple days ago."

" _Days?_ " Craig nearly sat up from shock, stopped only by the spazzing pain in his back muscles. Still, he managed to see more of his cell. It was dark, with no windows and only a few candles lighting the place outside of his cell. It was dark and stone, like something out of a nightmare. He realized he wasn't on a proper bed or mattress, but instead a wooden slab.

"I couldn't come sooner," she said, "But I'm glad I did. You were convulsing, if I didn't come when I did...Well, anyway now you owe me one. Or I guess Bebe."

"Wh-Where is Bebe?"

"She's fine."

"What's going to happen to me?"

"I don't know."

"Well, are they going to kill me?" Craig asked, his voice unintentionally angered as he tried to speak through the pain.

"It would make sense, given what you tried to do," she sighed, standing up, the sound of her metal knight uniform clanking very lightly but enough to trigger a throbbing pain in his head. She looked at him once more with an unreadable expression, "I brought food for you," she gestured to a small makeshift table with a piece of meat and vegetables, nicer food than he normally had. "They rarely feed prisoners here, so..."

"From Bebe?" he managed.

"No," she answered as she signaled to the guard to open the cast iron gate of his cell.

"Then-?"

"For Red," she responded, looking straight at the floor.

With that, she left him alone in his dreary, dimly lit cell.


	7. Chapter 6

As Wendy had conjectured, the pain began to subside about a day later. That said, it was easily one of the longest days of his life.

They say things get worse before they get better, and that was definitely the case with this hex. It went without saying that he wasn't able to get up to eat the food Wendy had left for him. As it got worse and worse, he found himself audibly screaming. Of course, the rotating dungeon guards only laughed at his struggles.

It felt like it would never end, but eventually it did.

It first started subsiding in his hands and feet, then the entirety of his limbs. Within minutes, the pain finally subsided.

He realized he was covered in an extremely thick pool of sweat. He was also incredibly thirsty.

Slowly as to not push himself, he sat up, joints lightly cracking. Part of him was still sore, not from the hex, but from having laid on a shitty dungeon slab for days.

He was also now able to fully take in just how dark and dreary this dungeon was.

As Wendy had claimed, he hadn't received any other food in the dungeon. He stretched his shoulders and stood up, going to the untouched plate she provided him. It was covered in flies. Shooing the flies away halfheartedly with one hand, he began to eat. It had gotten a little stale from sitting out, but it was tolerable for him.

The guard completely ignored the change of his condition. Craig decided it would be better to mutually ignore him.

A piece of potato dropped from his hands and onto his lap. Quickly, he reached to pick it up. It was then for the first time he realized that the pants he had on were not his own. They had changed him into prisoners garments and took his hat. Instinctively, his hand reached for his chest.

It was gone.

His hands balled into fists. It was no use, he was probably going to be executed soon anyway. He was probably kept alive so they could make an example of him. A public execution in the city square.

 _Unless._

Unless, he was able to escape. Maybe he could pick the lock, overcome the guards, sneak away from the city in the silence of night.

It would be very hard for him to ever rescue Clyde that way.

He sighed. He just wish he had his pendant back, as stupid as it was.

He failed.

That fact was only just starting to hit him. It came with crushing disappointment that he would rather not think about.

As if to intentionally interrupt his thoughts, suddenly he hear footsteps approaching in the distance. Possibly the guards changing shifts, he figured. He had no concept of what time it was, but he knew they did every so often. If he wanted to consider escaping, he should pay careful attention-he certainly wasn't able to before while withering in pain.

Part of him wished he had thought to pretend he was still in pain. It would have helped him, strategically speaking. Oh well, hindsight always seems to be like that.

"My Lord, it is of the utmost honor-"

"Oh come on Larry, don't talk to me like we didn't just get shitface wasted together two weeks ago."

Craig's attention was piqued. He recognized that voice. He quietly put down his plate of stale food.

"Uh...Yes. Well, this way M-My Lord," the guard's voice grew louder, "If you're still sure you want to meet him. You do realize what he-"

"Obviously I'm sure if I came this far."

Mere seconds later, Lord Marsh stopped right in front of Craig's dungeon cel, his face expressionless. The guard opened the gate and let him in.

"Larry, could you please leave us alone for a few minutes?" he finally spoke.

"I don't think that would be wise-"

"I was trying to phrase it nicely, but that wasn't really a request."

"Ten minutes, and then I'll be back," the guard sighed. Craig and Lord Marsh both stayed silent as the clanking footsteps of the guard faded into the distance.

"Why did you come here?" Craig finally asked as the footsteps finally disappeared.

"We told you you'd always have an ally in House of Marsh, didn't we, Feldspar?" he answered, "Though to be fair, we didn't think you'd go out and actually try and assassinate the Grand Wizard."

"I'm more surprised trying to assassinate the Grand Wizard didn't null that," Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Well yeah, you are on pretty thin ice."

"So what's my status?" Craig stood up, "I don't want bullshit. Am I a dead man walking or not?"

"What do you think?"

Craig stretched his arms, still sore from the days of laying and withering in pain, "I think if that was 100%, you wouldn't bother coming here to see me. You also came at almost the exact time that awful fucking hex wore off, which I don't think is coincidence."

"Smart boy," Lord Marsh cracked a smile.

"I just wanna know how the hell I could even have a _remote_ possibility of the Grand Wizard deciding to let me go after...you, know trying to assassinate him in his sleep and all."

His smile faded. "It won't be easy."

"What's your angle, then? I hope you actually have one and aren't just wasting my time."

" _Why_ did you try to kill him?" Lord Marsh asked as he sat on Craig's bed slab, "Are you an assassin? Did you get contracted to?"

Craig was thrown off guard by the question, even though she should have known to expect it. "He banished my best friend," he finally said. He quickly averted his gaze from the older man, looking to the floor.

"And you wanted revenge?"

"I-" Craig paused, those obnoxious feelings of emotion raising up in him, "I hoped that if he was killed, then maybe...Maybe the Princess would-"

"How much do you know about her?" Lord Marsh cut him off suddenly.

Craig turned back to face him, "How much _should_ I know?"

"If you hope to walk away from this? Nothing."

"Okay then," Craig answered, "It was outta revenge. I was all hopeless that my only friend was banished from all of space and time and wanted retaliation."

"Maybe."

"You still didn't answer me. What's the angle?" Craig asked, more accusatory, "You convince him I have some good excuse that's forgivable and then what? I can just walk out of here a free man?"

"Not exactly," he explained, "The 'free man' part, anyway."

"Oh, so send me to the 'workforce'?" Craig rolled his eyes, "Like that's much better than dying."

"No, not that," he explained, "More like, the Wizard has been looking for someone for a mission of his. With your skills, we're thinking maybe you could do it, in exchange for your freedom."

"A mission?"

"It'd be pretty dangerous, and I'm not sure if the Wizard is going to go for it," he sighed, "But it's the best I can think of. To be honest, I was thinking of you as a possible candidate, even before all this happened."

"Are you going to explain more, or leave it intentionally vague?" Craig rolled his eyes.

"The Wizard will explain it to you," Lord Marsh stood up, heading towards the gate where the guard would return in just a minute or so more to rise it. He looked down at the pathetic plate of half-eaten stale food on the plate Wendy had given to him. With a snap of his fingers and use of his magic, the food was turned as good as new. Fresh, uneaten.

"Why are you doing all this for me?" Craig asked, "All I did is help return a piece of jewelry."

"That was a reminder of my missing son," he looked away, "I was thinking...if you _do_ go on this mission, maybe you can find him...Tell him-"

"Okay, I get it, the jewelry was sentimental," Craig cut him off quickly. He really didn't want to be caught up in the Marsh family drama, especially with Lord Marsh's delusions about his long dead son.

"Oh, about jewelry," Lord Marsh stopped in his tracks, "That necklace you always wore. You didn't steal it, did you, Feldspar?"

"No!" Craig objected, "It was a gift, a really important one. Actually, if you could do _anything_ for me, I'd really like to have it back."

"Who gave it to you?" he asked.

"Does it matter?"

"It's just that I recognized it from when I was a lot younger. It belonged to Lady Laura of House Tucker. It just seemed kind of odd that you would have it."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Craig managed to force out instinctively.

He laughed lightly, reaching into a pocket of his long cloak, "I know you try to be pretty cautious, but you're really going to have to be more careful than that."

"What do you-?"

Lord Marsh pulled something out and tossed it to him. It was his mother's necklace.

With that, the guard's footsteps began approaching. The guard reached the gate and told him his time was up. He raised the gate and led the magician out of the dungeon. Before he left, however, he cast a spell on his plate, replenishing his food and making it as good as new. Craig was left alone in his dark, dreary cell once more.

Several more days passed before anything happened, only the guards who mutually ignored him. Craig wondered if he was completely forgotten about, left to rot in his cell for all eternity.

It did somewhat annoy him, waiting to be talked to about some plan, some mission. It made him wait it out, instead of going through with an escape plan. He ended up spending most of his time lying around uselessly.

He examined the feldspar necklace closely.

 _House Tucker_.

In all his years with his mother, she never mentioned exactly were she came from. She never mentioned her family. No parents, no siblings, nothing. She talked about the life of a noble in a general fashion, but she was always extremely vague about her own life.

He had never heard the name "Tucker" from her before.

He tried to think if he had heard the name around in Kupa City before. Perhaps there were other Tuckers running around, perhaps he had run into them. But he couldn't recall such.

He didn't like to think about his mother being a born noble. He _hated_ nobles. He didn't want to do research on her, trying to find out where she came from. She rejected their snobby life, and everyone who banished her were the stuck up filth like all the rest of them. He didn't want to know about them, he didn't want to think of them as related to him at all.

He didn't like knowing the name of his would-be House.

He was, of course, naturally also alarmed that Lord Randy recognized the necklace. He wasn't quite sure for how long. Did he recognize it the day he walked into the city all those years ago? Is that related to why he let him in so easily? He liked to tell himself that it was only when it was confiscated after the assassination attempt, that he got to analyze it closely. But he couldn't fully convince himself of this.

Did Lord Marsh know his true identity? Did he know that he was the son of Laura? If Lord Marsh knew where the necklace came from, how many others could have? How many did?

Craig felt sick to his stomach. Lord Marsh was right about one thing. He _did_ need to be more careful. Or rather, he _should_ have been. All those years, walking around with a noticeable necklace belonging to a cast out noblewoman. Especially when he conveniently arrived after her village was burnt to the ground.

He didn't starve, at least. Lord Marsh's spell not only replenished his food from when he first cast the spell-it replenished as soon as he stopped eating, whether he finished everything completely or ate just a little bit. The cup of water never got lower, no matter how much he drank. He had to be grateful for that, he certainly didn't get any food or water from anyone else.

He thought again that maybe this was all a trick to keep him complacent. He'd survive indefinitely in here, and as long as he thought there was a way out, they would believe he wouldn't try and escape.

Joke's on them, he was getting pretty sick of eating the same food.

Sure, he ate mainly the same food near daily for most of his life. But paying attention to that fact wouldn't help his motivation to get the hell out of this depressing cell.

"So like, I get that dungeons usually just leave people to rot until they become some cliche skeletons shackled to the wall," Craig decided to give a rare attempt at talking to the guard on staff, "But like, I'm just curious. After everything is that really you guys are planning to do with me?"

"Shut up, prisoner," the guard hissed.

"I noticed that I'm not actually shackled," Craig continued, "So like, do you guys wait to shackle dead people to the wall _after_ they become skeletons as part of your weird unsettling decorating routine? Is it even the prisoners? Or do you guys find random dead bodies to do that to?"

The guard ignored him.

"If I _am_ waiting to be executed," Craig found himself pondering out loud, still to the guard, "I've seen executions. Those people are almost always already beat up pretty bad. Why am I not?"

"Would you _like_ me to torture you?" the guard grinned sinisterly.

"You're implying that like it's an option for you."

"Watch your mouth, prisoner," he growled, glaring at Craig directly in the eye from the other side of his locked dungeon cell, "Or I'll take away that fancy food of yours."

Craig raised an eyebrow. The guard _wasn't_ allowed to touch him. "Go ahead. I'm tired of that shit anyway," Craig shrugged turning away.

The guard cursed under his breath, but otherwise did nothing.

He wasn't allowed to touch his food, either. It _was_ there for the purpose of keeping him alive. All of his suspicions were correct.

He concluded that there was really no reason to leave someone like him to rot. They'd kill him, let him starve. Not leave him perfectly comfortable. Or well, as much as he could be in this dark, dreary cell. Maybe there _was_ a plan for him.

He would give Lord Marsh another week.

Almost another week did go by. Craig felt bored out of his mind.

He tried to come up with potential escape plans, some which could possibly work. But more than anything, he was becoming more and more impatient with the supposed plan to get him out. He didn't understand why _no one_ could visit him again. Not just Lord Marsh, but what about Wendy? What about Bebe, who supposedly sent her? Okay, maybe Bebe was probably too pissed to see him. Sending a friend to make sure he wasn't dead was one thing and didn't mean he was spared her anger.

"Someone's here for you," a guard called to him emotionlessly, as if interrupting his thoughts.

Craig sat up straight. "Who?" he asked, trying to tone down potential eagerness with a twinge of skepticism.

"Me," a voice called out, the corresponding figure emerging with it.

It was Wendy Testaburger.

She was dressed in official garb, but unlike the usual hard metal of her usual knight's uniform, it was of soft purple and pink material, save a metal plate covering her chest. It screamed diplomatic outfit.

Dame Wendy Testaburger had been trying to peg him for murder for years. She helped him in his cell, but he wasn't sure exactly what her intentions were. He knew from experience that people were often fairweather friends, changing loyalties at the drop of a hat.

The guard lifted the gate and approached him, signaling for him to follow. Or rather, practically forcing him. Craig obliged.

"The Wizard ordered he be blindfolded to prevent any tricks," Wendy stated emotionlessly, tossing over a cloth to the guard.

"Wait a second, I-" Craig objected.

"Either you come blindfolded or not at all," she answered coldly. Craig sighed and against his better judgement allowed the guard to blindfold him. Once it was securely in place, the guard pushed him forward, leading him out of the cell.

"So is anyone going to tell me what the hell is going on?" he asked, as the three traversed their way up the dreary hallways of the dungeon.

The guard snickered, "You're not really in a position to-"

"You'll find out soon enough," Wendy cut him off.

Craig sighed again, but relented. However, even blindfolded, he was careful to memorize every step he took, counting each and every one of them as well as the number of stairs he climbed. The number of left turns, right turns. He listened closely for dripping water, wind that could be coming from cracks or windows, _anything_ that could help him if he found himself needing to escape.

Eventually they stopped him and opened a pair of doors. He could tell from the sound that they were very large, heavy doors. A moderate gust of wind blew on them as they opened. It must be the entrance to the dungeon, he figured.

The guard pushed him forward and out, out into the open. He wasn't entirely sure where he was-the city had multiple dungeons with multiple entrances to help confuse prisoners, but he could hear chatter. He could tell by slight noises from Wendy and the guard that they were attempting to shooing away any nosy onlookers.

Eventually, after a long walk in the open, he was lead into another building and taken up winding stairs of what he could only presume was one of many large towers. Carefully, he was eventually guided into a room. A pair of hands carefully went to the back of his head and untied his blindfold.

The first thing he saw was the Grand Wizard's face. Butters was standing next to where he sit, his face troubled. Instantly, Craig's fight or flight instinct kicked in. He wanted to kill this the Wizard, but just being in his very presence physically sickened him.

"Take a seat, Feldspar," the Wizard gave a cruel, shit-eating grin at him.

Craig probably would have, given that there wasn't like he had any other choice. Yet, he did not sit himself down. An unseen force moved his body, forcing him into the chair. It was as if he completely lost control of his body.

So this was the Grand Wizard's magic.

The Wizard, similarly to how he had seen Marsh do before, floated in two plates of food, a larger one for himself, and a smaller one for Craig. It was a whole miniature chicken with a side of mashed potatoes and gravy. There was a glass of wine in a fancy jeweled gold chalice that he knew was probably expensive. A great quality meal he was sure, but he had no appetite.

"So, I'm wondering," the Wizard said with a full mouth as he started eating, "Did you _actually_ think you could kill me? _You_ a thief. Against, _me_ the great and awesome Grand Wizard?"

Craig didn't say a word, only lightly poking at his potatoes with his fork.

With only the slightest movement of the Grand Wizard's hand, Craig's body became overcome with pain, dropping his fork to the floor. He tried to bite the inside of his mouth to prevent a scream, but he couldn't help but cry out. Fortunately, unlike the hex he endured, the pain left him only a few seconds later. As it left him, he found himself gasping for air.

"I asked you a question," the Wizard smiled.

"Shouldn't you be more concerned about _why_ I _wanted_ to kill you?" Craig glared, picking up the fork from the floor.

"Nah. Maybe in a minute, but you gotta see where I'm coming from. I'm like, the coolest, bravest, strongest, most powerful Wizard-no _being_ in all of Zaron. You're just a petty little thief with no magic at all. Imagine some shitty little ant going against a dragon," he laughed.

"Well, I got pretty far, didn't I?" Craig smiled.

His smile faded. "No you didn't."

"I managed to breach all of your security, wander the castle unnoticed, and even made it into your bedroom without any suspicion whatsoever. If you didn't have some hex or whatever shielding you, you'd have been dead. All without using any of your magic ricks."

The Grand Wizard stood up, his face turning red with anger. "I'll fucking show you magic-"

"Wait!" Wendy cut him off, "With all due respect, isn't that _why_ you wanted to bring him here?"

The Wizard sighed and sat down. His boiling anger faded, but he still looked irritated. "Don't interrupt me, bitch," he scoffed under his breath.

"Excuse me?" Craig asked incredulously.

"I _said_ this bitch shouldn't interrupt me," the Wizard frowned, "She's already on thin fucking ice as it is."

"N-No, not that. I mean you brought me here _because_ I was almost able to kill you? So what, you think that makes me useful?"

"Not if you don't learn some fucking respect," he spat, "This was a stupid idea. I should just have you publicly burned alive for the way you think you can talk to me alone."

"What do you want me to do, be your bodyguard?" he smirked, "I think I'd _rather_ be publicly burned alive."

"Like I'd want to put up with you?" he frowned, "No, I want you for a mission that would probably get you killed almost instantly, anyway."

"Why do you think I would _want_ to do something for you?" Craig asked, "I mean, like I said, I'd rather fucking die horribly than be your guard, so that should tell you that I'm not super desperate to be spared. What's in it for me, especially if I'll likely die in that mission, anyway?"

"Fine then, you ungrateful asshole. I'll gladly have you executed."

"Wait!" Wendy interrupted again, "Maybe you _should_ ask him why he tried to kill you."

Craig's eyes widened. He knew what Wendy was getting at. His heart started beating rapidly.

"Don't order me around!" the Wizard spat at her.

There was a brief pause.

"So why did you want to kill me?" the Wizard grumbled under his breath.

"For my best friend, Clyde," he answered earnestly, without the sardonic tone he had before, "He worked for you. He went through _hell_ for you, and then you banished him."

"You'd do all that for a friend? Haha, that's dumb."

"No it's not!" he found his temper rising. Then he took a deep breath, to force himself to stay leveled, "He...He was all I had. We'd been through a lot together, and _you_ took away everything! I lost my only family, and now I have to live with the fact that he's banished from space and time, all alone!"

"Yeah, whatever. I remember Clyde," he stared him down, "He was a real fucking idiot. You know, he was probably only holding you back."

"Even if he was, I wouldn't give a shit about that!" Craig found the volume of his voice rising, "I'd do _anything_ for him!"

"Anything?" he smirked slightly, raising his eyebrow.

 _Bingo_ , Craig thought. He tried to keep his face straight, not showing the sudden rush of internal relief and adrenaline that was building up inside of him.

"Anything!" Craig tried to put on a pleading tone, despite his internal demeanor growing far more calculative. It was pretty hard for him, he was always a terrible actor. He wished he could put on tears, but unfortunately crying was a rare thing for him, and he especially couldn't cry on demand.

"Well fuck," the Wizard laughed awkwardly, "Can you believe this shit, Butters? He tried so hard to kill me just for that Clyde guy. I didn't even really care about him that much, I probably would have brought him back if he only asked-"

Craig knew he was lying through his teeth in an attempt to sound nonchalant, but it still stung. It made his hatred for the Wizard grow even more.

"-But even now, I _could_ totally bring that dumbass back. _If_ , Feldspar manages to complete my quest. Don't you think that'd be fair, Butters?"

"Uh, I guess?"

"' _U-Uh, I guess?_ '" the Grand Wizard mocked, "You're killing me Butters, grow a fucking backbone like Feldspar here."

"Uh, yes," Butters stammered, "I think it's a good idea."

Craig could feel Wendy lightly touch his shoulder. He still really didn't get why Wendy was rooting for him so hard after she had spent years trying to get him convicted for murder, but quickly realized that wasn't the most important thing for him to think about.

"Alright then, Feldspar," the Grand Wizard smiled at him, "Will you accept my quest? You said you'd do _anything_ for your friend, after all."

"Yes," Craig responded, "But aren't you gonna tell me what it is first?"

"I need you to sneak into the High Elf Kingdom and steal back the Stick of Truth from that piece of shit rat High Elf King Kyle."


	8. Chapter 7

" _What's the city like?" Tricia asked their mother as she dropped the pieces of wood she and Craig had collected near the fire pit in the center of their house._

" _Which one?" she asked her daughter back, with a light laugh as she tossed in one of the larger sticks into the fire._

" _You_ know _," the little girl asked, "Kupa's city! Our capital! A merchant that said the entire city is surrounded by the King's house! One building! Is it true?"_

 _She laughed, reaching for a spoon to stir the pottage in the pot above the fire. "It is. But it's not like our little houses. It's more like multiple towers connected by walls surrounding the city, the largest conjoined towers housing the royal family itself."_

" _Why would they do that?" Tricia picked a small stick and threw it into the fire._

" _Protection," she explained as she carefully slaved away on the food, "Cities and castles generally have large walls protecting them to help keep bad people out. It helps people feel safe."_

" _Why don't_ we _have a wall then?" she asked._

 _Their mother froze for a moment, thrown off by the question. Another moment later, she continued stirring the pot, ignoring the question completely._

Living in the city for just a few years shy of a decade, he saw the walls of the castle almost every day. He saw knights stand at the top, armed with cannons and bow and arrows, ready to strike down anyone who dared try and impose upon the city. He knew it was also protected by a mote, full up of ghastly aquatic creatures that were said to eat a person's limbs right off.

His mother was wrong, though. None of this made him feel safe. It only ever made him feel trapped. Growing up, he knew serfs were oppressed, unable to leave the village from which they were legally tied. However, it's not like the vast majority people in the city were generally able to afford to leave this awful place, either. As it turned out, everywhere in this god awful kingdom was blatantly unjust to those who were not born with privilege. He longed for the day he would be able to leave the entire awful kingdom without looking back. He never thought the day would come because of a mission like this, however.

When he first heard it from the Grand Wizard, his gut instinct was to think a joke was being played on him.

"The Stick of Truth?" he had managed, "As in, _the_ Stick of Truth from legends?"

"No the _other_ Stick of Truth," the Wizard glared at him, his voice very deadpan yet obviously sarcastic.

"I thought it was just a myth." Craig knew from the past few days it was real, but based on years of habit his gut reaction as to deny it. It still felt like it _couldn't_ actually be real.

"Well yeah," the Wizard shrugged, "We can't exactly have every ordinary nobody knowing it's out there. Then _everyone_ would be after it. It's better to let people think it's some legend."

"So you lie to people."

"Come on," he rolled his eyes, "Do you really think it would be good for every random person to try and get it? You don't want it getting into the wrong hands, now do you? It's better to let the important people like me handle it."

"Then how did you lose it?"

"It _wasn't_ my fault," the Grand Wizard furrowed his eyebrows and turned slightly red at the question, "When the fat ugly High Elf Queen decided to declare war on our Kingdom, I figured she would go looking for the stick in the city, so I decided to hide it in Heatherworth. How was I to know we had a mole in our ranks that informed her I hid it in one of our podunk villages, leading her to try and burn them all down until she found it? Elves were supposed to be all about ' _Protecting the innocent'_ or something."

Craig's heart skipped a beat and his face grew cold as if all of the blood had rushed out of it. So that's why his village was destroyed. The elves thought that it might be housing the Stick of Truth.

He couldn't really blame the Wizard for this, as much as he would like to. The city was also in danger from potentially housing the stick, and the Wizard obviously didn't think his agricultural villages would be harmed. He didn't even put Sundorham in direct danger-they were just a mistaken casualty. The High Elf Kingdom sacrificed them remorselessly in their attempts at finding a needle in a haystack.

Even if they attacked them for the sake of trying to find the stick, there was no need to burn the village down. There was no need to slaughter everyone, leaving not even a single child left alive. They didn't need to be so terribly cruel.

"Why do you trust me?" Craig managed to finally let out, his voice more sullen than he would have liked. He couldn't help it. No matter how much time had passed, the wounds always felt fresh.

"I can only speak for myself, but it's not that I trust you as a person. It's that I trust that you would do anything for a friend," Wendy piped in, "You're a resourceful thief that quite a reputation for getting things done, even if until now it was only for the wrong reasons. I also hear that you're outspoken about hating elves, so I don't believe you would consider betraying us to them." Craig straightened up when she brought up the elves. He also knew the statement about "a friend" had double meaning. Wendy was good friends with Red, and Craig had helped Bebe try to save her.

"Well," Craig thought for a moment, "How do you both know _I_ wouldn't just run off with the stick? I could use it to free Clyde myself, couldn't I? I still don't get what you gain by sending me. Why not go yourself?"

"Well, that's easy, stupid," the Wizard guffawed, "Only people who are capable of magic can use it. A silly little street criminal like you obviously aren't capable of wielding it Plus, sending knights would be too obvious a declaration of war." Craig's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Also, I happened to vouch for you as well," a voice from behind him called out. Craig looked behind him. It was Lord Marsh.

"Yeah, yeah," the Wizard shrugged again, this time in an overdramatic, dismissive way, "He happened to say I should spare your life and put you to use instead. He seems to really like you for some reason. Wendy, too. I don't get what it is about you."

Craig's eyes widened. He wasn't sure how much he trusted Lord Marsh, especially after he proved to know things about his mother.

Wendy grew mad, "I told you I _don't-_ "

"Oh shove it," the Wizard rolled his eyes.

"Feldspar," Lord Marsh looked at him seriously, "This is an extremely important mission. We're putting a lot of faith in you."

Craig looked down at his lap. His mother's pendant underneath his shirt felt heavy against his chest.

"So what's your answer?" the Wizard asked impatiently.

"I'll do it."

Craig was allowed some time to go back to his place to pick up some of his things. Wendy accompanied him for security reasons and to make sure he didn't run off, of course. Thankfully, she waited outside his front door, allowing him to pack in peace, not having to deal with her unsettling presence.

The place had been ransacked, of course. It was only natural, given that he tried to assassinate the Wizard and all. They probably found some stolen goods, but he was already known as a thief. There wasn't anything to incriminate him in terms of identity or having some ulterior motive.

He really didn't have that much to pack. His original clothes and weapons were already returned to him, and he didn't want to carry any more. Mainly just supplies that he would need to survive, like a canteen, rope, and so forth. He mainly just wanted an excuse to return to this place one more time.

As he turned to leave, something green got caught in the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned around. It was that silly green hat that Clyde had gotten for him. It was on the floor, peaking out from under a blanket that had also been tossed to the ground.

He really didn't need that hat. He wasn't going to ever wear it. It would just be a waste of space. He should just go already.

Craig groaned at himself. He grabbed the hat, shoving it into the satchel annoyedly. He hated how sentimental he could be sometimes.

"Ready to go?" Wendy asked him as he finally exited.

"Yeah," he answered as he walked down the steps.

Before he was to go on the mission, he was first going to go through some basic training. He thought it was dumb and pointless, but he decided to comply without a fight. He figured that if he pushed his luck too hard, he might end up back in the dungeon and on death row afterall.

He was given a place to stay for the time being, not allowed to stay at his own home. These chambers were far better than the dungeon, but he was still for all intents and purposes locked in. Just, this time, in a spare tower room. It almost felt livable, if he could forget the fully armed knights that guarded it. He wasn't quite sure how long he was going to be there. Wendy would only answer with a curt "As long as it takes." It was annoying, but he knew pressing someone like her would get him nowhere.

He placed the few things he brought with him on the bed. It was a nicer bed than he owned, but still quite hard and a far cry from one belonging to nobility. He sighed and flopped himself on the bed. He figured that after everything, he deserved a rest.

"Feldspar," a servant boy called at his doorway, interrupting his thoughts. He was a small thing, probably in his early teens at the oldest. By his clothing, Craig could also tell from his clothing that he was a very lowly servant. Typical of nobility to exploit impoverished kids for work. It make him sick.

"What is it?" he asked, trying to hide how annoyed and tired he was with his potential rest being interrupted to the kid.

"Dame Wendy Testaburger is summoning you," he said as if he were reading from a script.

"For what?" he asked, annoyance more clearly in his voice. He figured the kid knew it wasn't towards him personally.

"Just follow me please, sir."

"How good are you at combat?" Wendy asked when they arrived. They stood in the middle of a knight training ground, herself fully armored. They didn't have the ground to themselves, other knights around them were also practicing combat.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Probably not the worst, but also not the best or anything."

"Alright then," she raised an arm to signal one of her knights. It was a young man about his age wearing only soft armor. "Spar him."

"Aren't you gonna give me-"

"No. Use what you will have with you on your mission," she cut him off coldly.

Craig sighed, pulling out the blade he stole from the knight. He was thankful that it too was returned to him-it was really better than any dull blade he ever owned. Of course, even if he could get one on the knight, he wasn't going to try and cut him open for real, of course.

The knight looked at him with a mischievous grin as he raised his longsword. He had a certain cockiness to him that Craig automatically hated.

"Three...two...one...start," Wendy called out.

Immediately, the knight lunged for him, aiming straight for his gut without any hesitation. Craig gasped, but managed to summersalt past him to the right. Not having time to catch his breath, Craig quickly stood up. Sweat had already started to pull on his forehead. This crazy bastard was actually attacking him for the kill.

The knight grinned back at him even more wickedly than before. Craig clutched his blade tightly. He really _wasn't_ the best at combat, he always did things far more through stealth. Yet, he didn't go this far and through this much shit to die to some punk ass knight.

Given that the knight was stronger and more experienced, he decided to wait for him to take the first move. Sure enough, he eventually charged for him once more, Craig this time ducking and rolling through the opposite side, trying to stab him with his knife in the process. Unfortunately, it barely nicked him.

That mild cut absolutely infuriated the knight, however. Craig rolled his eyes. One of _those_ , he reckoned. All the better, really. Someone who fought in blind rage like that would be far easier to outsmart.

He charged for him several more times, but Craig managed to outmaneuver him each time, even getting a few more cuts in. The knight stopped making calculated thrusts, and instead began to charge and charge with his sword at him. Despite this, his moves became more and more predictable and easier for him to dodge.

Finally, after Craig got enough distance the knight decided to charge, swinging for his legs. His bent down position made Craig smile. An opening. As he approached him, Craig quickly whipped his cape over and threw it over the knights head. Quickly, he jumped on the knight's back and pulled his cape, strangling him. The knight fell over, Craig straddling his back. To cement his victory he brought his blade to the knight's neck above the fabric.

"Enough!" Wendy called out. Craig shrugged, dropping the blade and getting off of him. The knight coughed but refused to look at him, clearly humiliated.

"Was that alright?" Craig asked, finding a smirk growing on his face. He did far better than he thought he would. Maybe he wasn't so bad at combat afterall.

"Your technique is awful," was all she answered with.

He was also briefed more specifically on the mission.

"Obviously, you're going to have to get into the kingdom and be welcomed by them to be able to get far enough to steal the stick," Lord Marsh explained.

"Don't they hate all humans, though?" Craig asked, "I don't get how we're gonna fool them with that."

"They hate some more than others. There are actually some humans that live among them, probably like that spy you met," he responded, "Though yes, they hate the Kingdom of Kupa the most. However, the young new King is more inclined to seek peace between his kingdom and the rest of Zaron, perhaps even to Kupa."

"Perhaps?" he raised an eyebrow.

"That's really the best option we have right now," he shrugged.

"So what exactly?" Craig lounged back in his seat, "You're planning to send me as some diplomat of peace to the High Elf Kingdom and then what? Have me slip the stick from right under their nose?"

"Basically, yes."

"And if they aren't down for the peace business?"

"Well, we did say that this is a very dangerous mission, didn't we?"

As harrowing and exhausting as physical training with Wendy was and as annoying as the briefings were, he found it far better than certain other things. Specifically, the fact that it was deemed necessary for him to learn about elven culture.

The idea of learning about those filth sickened him. Worst of all was having to learn basics of the language.

"So you see, 'How are you?' in their language is literally 'Good you?'" the teacher explained. He was a nerdy young man with a lisp and greasy hair who had some odd passion for elves for some reason.

"Sure," Craig said, leaning back in his chair, looking at the ceiling.

"So in High Elven they say ' _Luh lai va?'_ The ' _va'_ denotes a question. They actually have a word for question marks. Cool huh?"

"Not really," he answered dully.

"W-Well, anyway," his impromptu teacher continued anyway, "You gotta be careful. In the _Drow_ Elf dialect, instead of ' _va'_ they use _'ta_ '. Their dialect is a lot rougher sounding, almost like Barbarian. You don't wanna use the wrong dialect to the High Elves, they'll get really offended. I'd say don't use the High Elf dialect towards Drow Elves, but you're probably not going to come across them. So just don't confuse the ' _va_ ' and ' _ta_ ' okay?"

"I would have never confused that if you hadn't just told me it was a thing."

"How much more can you possibly brief me?" Craig asked, resting his elbows on the table, feeling as if he were about to fall asleep from absolute boredom, "Also if I have to learn one more phrase of Elvish or how I'm supposed to properly blow my nose in front of the High Elf King I'm going to fucking lose it."

"Today is the last day, actually," Lord Marsh told him, "I was actually just going to tell you that the Wizard has decided that we're going to send you out tomorrow."

"I see," Craig said, straightening up.

"My wife and I wanted to invite you for dinner tonight for your last night, but the Wizard wouldn't allow it."

"Why _are_ you so nice to me?" Craig asked, "What do you get out of helping me?"

"I _want_ to help you," he insisted, a slight twinge of irritation in his voice.

"Maybe so," Craig crossed his arms, "But that can't be the only reason. Helping me for returning the necklace might get me a pat on the back or help if I got caught trying to steal something, but no one would go this far after I tried to kill the Wizard no matter how priceless or sentimental the pearls are. There has to be something else."

"I want you to find my son."

Craig blinked. He knew the Marsh boy was dead. There were accounts of his body being found. His wife always scolded him, saying to give it up. He had quite a reputation for, despite being such a reliable figurehead in the kingdom, having such an unshakable issue with denial.

To be frank, Craig didn't care much about the whole thing. He didn't trust the Marshes, he didn't like not knowing how much they knew about his identity. He didn't like any of it. Still, he helped him live and put him on a path where he could rescue Clyde.

"I'll try," was all he responded with.

"Get up," Wendy ordered him early the next morning. Craig rubbed his eyes with a yawn, but complied. "Get your things," she continued as he stretched, "You're leaving today." Craig let his arms flop to his side. He knew this, Lord Marsh had told him. Still, it was an odd feeling.

He quickly got dressed and shoved his things into his satchel and into his pockets. He didn't have much, so it didn't take him very long to get ready and meet Wendy outside his room where she waited.

She took him down the steps of the tower and to the usual place where he ate breakfast. To his surprise, however, this time the Grand Wizard was also awaiting him, Butters standing at his side as per usual. After a moment, he decided it made enough sense. He probably had last minute things he wanted to tell him.

The breakfast had usually been toast and gruel, but today it was more of a feast. Bacon, eggs, ham, a baguette, and freshly squeezed juice. He wouldn't be surprised if it had less to do with being a send off and more to do with the fact that the Wizard was eating it as well.

"So today's the day," the Wizard said as he was shoveling his face with food, "Do you think you're ready enough to not fuck it up?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," he shrugged, tearing off a piece of bread.

"Remember, as soon as you steal the stick, you contact me immediately and meet me in the meeting spot. You have no magic, so it's worthless to you, and if I find any hesitation I will kill your friend before the next user would have any chance to rescue him."

"Not that I was planning on it, but the Stick can't just resurrect people?" Craig said as he swallowed, "Seems like it's lacking something major, if it can't do that."

"It can. You can resurrect someone, so to speak," he grinned an undeniably evil grin, "But as soon as you see their new form, you'll wish they hadn't been." Craig frowned. He wondered if that's what had happened to the princess. He'd rather not think about it while he was eating.

"How _am_ I supposed to contact you anyway?" he decided to change the subject instead.

"Glad you reminded me," he said through a full mouth. He reached into his pocket and tossed over a dull golden brooch. It wasn't intricate or meant to be decorative, it was more of a solid gold spherical shape that he could attach to his clothing. Craig examined it closely. It seemed to truly be solid gold, probably worth a fortune. Suddenly, it went from a dull, almost brown color to a bright, shiny yellow. He almost dropped it in surprise.

"I have it enchanted so it'll glow if I wanna speak to you," he explained, "It should respond to your voice and understand your intent if you speak into it."

"Are you sure it's not to spy on me?" he looked at it more intently. It was a magical device to both connect to and keep track of him, very similar to that of the stone in Butter's headband. "How do I know it can't hear me all the time?"

"Do you really think I'm going to waste my magic to listen to you stomping away in the forest all the time? Trust me, I have it set so I'll _only_ have to hear your nasally voice when _you_ want me to."

"That's fair," he decided, "But what if _I_ need to contact _you_?"

"You should just be able to speak into it. I have it set so I'll get a request," he said, "But don't waste my time with nonsense. Only use it if you absolutely need me. Any other questions?"

"Nope," Craig responded, clasping it to where his cape was tied around his neck. If anything, it made a good clasp for that.

"Then go on your way already," the Wizard stood up, wiping crumbs on his sleeve, "And even if you die, please do so without embarrassing me."

Nearly ten years he had spent in this city. Ten years of the overpowering walls, making him perpetually feel more trapped than protected. Years of living in a crummy apartment, with only Clyde to keep him company. Years of seeing undeserving people executed horrifically in the town square. Years of seeing children of the poor being worked to the bone. Years of filthy living conditions for the poor, while the rich adorned themselves with all the finest things in Zaron. Adorning themselves with gems that were worth as much as would be able to feed a starving child for a year.

He hated this place. He absolutely hated it. He wanted nothing more than to finally be rid of it.

Still, as he approached the front gate with nothing more than a small amount of things he could reasonably carry, he found himself hesitating. It was odd for him to finally be leaving this place he begrudgingly called home. He wasn't going to say he was going to miss it, but there were still some good memories there. Memories of him and Clyde mostly, but memories nonetheless.

He hadn't allowed himself to think about Clyde while he focused on training. It hurt him too much. Not to mention, the conflicted feelings of the fact that Kupa Keep where who put Clyde in this situation in the first place wouldn't have exactly helped his resolve to train under them.

"I'm going to help you, Clyde," he said, "No matter what."

With that, he approached the gatekeeper with his pass to leave the city. The gatekeeper glanced at it for a moment and then went to lower the gate.

Without looking back, Craig exited.


	9. Chapter 8

Craig hadn't originally intended for this life. Even after he arrived in Kupa City, he never expected to become some underworld criminal. Back in the day, when he started stealing out of desperation, he never expected to garner the reputation that he ended up having.

It really was out of desperation. Even when Clyde got a paying jobs in a shops, it wasn't nearly enough. They always barely had enough to eat. They spent cold nights sleeping on dirty side streets or hiding in animal pens. Originally they tried to sleep in Clyde's shop, but he was ultimately fired for it, taking him weeks to find a new merchant to take him. In turn, Craig would slide a bit of bread or a couple bunches of fruit from the market. He continued this even when Clyde was working again, to put a little money aside so that they would one day no longer be homeless. The less money they required to spend on food, the more money they had to put aside. Yet even still, he only ever stole what they needed.

Things only changed when Clyde fell very ill. At first Craig thought his hypochondriac friend was overreacting like usual, but it had become clear that he was only getting worse and worse. He desperately needed a doctor and medication, but even the meager amount they had set aside to spend on such treatments wouldn't be nearly enough.

It pained him that the wealthy in the town square would shamelessly flaunt their expensive clothes and fine jewels while turning up their nose on starving, dying children on the street. Just one of the pearls on just one of their necklaces, just one gemstone from their large, intricate brooches, _any_ of it would be enough to help Clyde and then some. Because of that, he didn't feel any remorse the first time he subtly cut a beaded bracelet from a woman's wrist in a crowded alley. He feared what the pawn shop owner would say when he presented it, perhaps accusing him of stealing it, but he soon found out that the pawn shop owner couldn't care less where anything came from.

The wealthy didn't need nor deserve their luxuries, while in turn theft brought Clyde and him perhaps not a life of luxuries themselves, but a life that was comfortable enough. Theft brought them a roof over their head and food to eat. Things that Clyde's "legitimate" job wouldn't be able to provide. It also helped them feel as if they were sticking their noses to the nobles.

He never expected back then that all of this would lead him to stealing the most powerful object in existence from the only kingdom he hated more than Kupa.

It was going to be a long journey. The trek to the High Elf Kingdom was much further than that of the one Clyde and him trekked from Sundorham all those years ago. Of course, back then they got terribly lost and wandered longer than it would have taken if they had proper navigation. This time, Craig had a proper map and compass to guide him. He had emergency contact systems. Proper supplies. The hardships he faced then were essentially rectified.

Still, it wasn't going to be easy. He knew that much.

The first part was easy enough, at least. He simply had to follow the main road that connected the city and the major villages of Kupa. After about a couple days or so, he would have to head north from the very end of the road. From there, to say the journey would become more dangerous would be an extreme understatement. He would be entering the Lost Forest, Barbarian territory, meaning he would have to tread lightly in hopes of not being seen. If he manages to make it out of their forests without being struck down by a dozen arrows, or for that matter any of the beasts or fauna, he would cross through a smaller civilized human kingdom the base of the mountain. It would be a break at least, as it was known for being hospitable enough. Extremely isolated, but still friendly. The steep, frigid mountains themselves would be a whole other story entirely. Not to mention, the mountains acted like a natural border between human and elf territories, meaning he would likely have to dodge other, more nomadic wood elves. Worst case scenario, he might even have to dodge Drow elves.

All of this _before_ convincing the High Elves to let him into their Kingdom and get close enough to steal the stick. Convincing them to not just kill him on the spot could be a real challenge. He wasn't sure exactly how to tackle this issue, so he decided to focus more of his attention on getting there for the time being. Sure, his training at Kupa presented him with how they wanted him to be-that he was a human olive branch to try and reconcile the two kingdoms' differences. Knowing the two kingdoms' relationship, he somehow doubted that would actually work. He sighed. At least he had a long time to think about it.

The initial leg of his journey would be incredibly boring to most people, but he found himself quite enjoying it. He liked walking for long periods of time. It always helped him clear his head and release any pent up energy or anger. It was a lot easier in Sundorham, where it was less crowded with people, allowing him to get lost in himself without worrying about bumping into others or getting hit by a carriage. Though of course back then he had to worry about accidentally wandering too far and leaving the village proper-something that could have gotten him in serious legal trouble back then if he got caught by a knight on patrol.

Now, on the other hand, he had a long winding road that seemingly went on forever all to himself. He could go hours without passing another person. Part of it reminded him of the desperate feeling he felt with Clyde all those years ago when they once traveled on the same road, hoping to find sanctuary. He tried his best to not dwell on it.

Late in the afternoon, he came across a village. Golden Glen was known for being one of the more affluent places in Kupa, conveniently because it was mere hours from the city. He received some currency of various lands he was expected to travel through, of course including Kupa's own currency he could spend there. He figured it wouldn't hurt to pay to stay there for the night, even if it would be on the pricier side.

As soon as he entered the village he found himself pissed off. It was a peasant village so to speak, but the people there were not serfs. They were also farmers, but they had their own land and could work on it however they wished. They couldn't move away without permission, but they were able to easily get permits to leave and go on holiday, unlike serfs who were tied to the land from birth to death.

It was also objectively much nicer to look at. The houses were more in line with those from the city, not the flimsy thatch houses that he had been forced to live in and repair frequently. Animals had their own separate barns and stables, not kept within the same small houses as their caretakers. _They_ wouldn't have to deal with a farm animal licking their ear in the middle of the night.

Still, he entered the village with his mouth shut, doing his best to ignore his thoughts as he presented his permit to the knights guarding the village, allowing him to enter. He didn't care enough to look at the village, but instead wandered straight to the inn. It was already getting dark, and knew it was a bustling place, so he wasn't entirely sure if they'd even have room. Honestly, at this point it wouldn't be the worst notion in the world to sleep outside the village in a field or something. Still, he was going to be spending a lot of time sleeping outdoors, so he decided to take a shot anyway.

When he entered the large three story building, it was far more "bustling" than he expected. In the pub, there was loud music playing and people dancing jovally all around. Men and women danced in a line, the women's colorful skirts drifting about. A good number of them appeared to be tavern girls themselves, doing some sort "fanservice" he figured. He looked around and saw in the corner some men playing some instruments, tapping their feet enthusiastically. It was certainly very much unlike the inn in Sundorham or the taverns he frequented in Kupa City. He felt like a fish out of water.

As tried to examine the overwhelming setting, he nearly got run over by a black haired tavern girl carrying two large steins in each hand, though he quickly dodged. She apologized, a bi overly so in an exaggerated cutesy voice, but Craig in return awkwardly nodded. He was never really good at that sort of human interaction.

"We're busy today, but there's a spare seat at the bar," the black haired girl told him as she was about to continue delivering her drinks to the waiting customers, "Someone will be right with you to help you, okay?" She winked and continued on, while all he could respond with was his awkward nod again. He shrugged it off headed to the spare seat with his head low, dodging dancing couples on the way.

"How can I help you, hon?" another girl from behind the bar grinned overly friendly at him. She had red hair. His heart skipped a beat as she immediately reminded him of Red, even if it was more of an orange shade compared to Red's bright...well, red. He looked at her for a few more seconds, hinging on an awkward amount, and let out a breath. Her facial structure and demeanor was also nothing like Red.

The tavern girls here also wore skirts that were only to above their knees and with low cut necklines in the front to show a lot more cleavage than Red's dress did. It didn't bother him, not because he was _into_ that, because he wasn't. Truth be told, he was really interested in women in general. He figured it probably worked on other people to get them tips and being a hustler himself he couldn't blame them.

"Actually, I wanted to see if you still had any spare rooms or beds for the night," Craig answered as loud as he could over the music and chatter. The girl gave him a grin and stare that went straight to his spine.

"Well, as you see we're _awfully_ crowded tonight," she tilted back her head and gave him a wink, "But you know, _my_ room has some extra space."

"Not interested," he responded bluntly. The girl's expression dropped for a second, but then as if by practice and experience, immediately went back to her previous eternally flirty customer service expression.

"I'll see what I can do," she smiled, "We might have space in our shared rooms. In the meantime, can I get you something?"

"Just a beer," he shrugged. She quickly poured him a stein from the bar and handed it over to him, before wandering off to the crowd.

He didn't mean to be cold to the girl, but he really didn't have the patience to play along. He wondered if he gave her the wrong impression by staring at her that awkward length of time, but then realized he didn't really care. He was widely considered quite attractive, or so he was told, causing him to get advances from girls all the time. Despite this, not a single one of the girls who threw themselves on him ever appealed to him. Early on, Clyde hounded him for turning down girls that Clyde himself viewed as gorgeous. He also hounded him even more for turning down wealthy girls Clyde figured they could get profit from. Craig figured that would be incredibly annoying, and not worth the effort. He'd rather just steal the old fashioned way.

He figured he just didn't have any sort of attraction to women. It was whatever. He put his elbows on the bar and took a drink of his beer, zoning out the loud music and chatter surrounding him while he waited for her to return.

"Well," she said as she went back over the bar to face him, "We don't have any private rooms or beds, but you're in luck. Someone's wife just dragged a patron home, so we have an extra space in our shared beds. Should I give it to you?"

"Sure," he shrugged, wiping the beer on his mouth with his sleeve. It was decently pricey, but it was the Wizard's money anyway. Beats sleeping outside, he figured.

It turned out he figured wrong. He was squeezed in between two sweaty, drunk men on a bed that was less comfortable than his one back in Kupa City. There were loud snores from this overly crowded room and sounds of women moaning loudly and overdramatically through the walls. There was chatter from those drunk trying to find their way to their sleeping spot, followed by other patrons telling them to shut up. The person to the left of him elbowed him in his sleep so hard he figured his ribs might have a bruise in the morning. He considered himself grateful that he got any sleep at all.

He left just at sunrise. He would have left earlier, but he wanted to wait until the village had awakened for him to get a decent breakfast and some last minute supplies that the Wizard and company didn't provide. Little things, like extra cloth and sewing materials to mend his clothes if they seriously tore, some extra fishing line, a few bits of food that wouldn't spoil or take up too much space. Normally he would just steal these things but, once again, the Wizard's money. He couldn't guarantee that he would find another village like Golden Glen that would be this welcoming to someone like him for the rest of his travels, so he figured he should take advantage of that before his journey truly begins.

He was surprised that the feeling of leaving Golden Glen behind was almost as impactful as leaving the gates of Kupa City, even if he had never been to this village before. There were a few poor villages akin to Sundorham that he could theoretically go through in Kupa if he was desperate, but this really was where he would be on his own the rest of the way.

Kupa being the size it was, he was able to continue on down the road as he was a couple more days. There were rarely bandits in Kupa that he would have to worry about. The Wizard was an oppressive dick, but one thing he was good at was keeping the roadways connecting the parts of the country safe. Only a few asshole knights that would ask him about his paperwork bothered him. They probably _would_ have been like bandits, demanding compensation to allow him to pass, but once he showed that he was on official business from the Grand Wizard himself, they immediately gave it up and let him pass with a bow and no further questions.

It reminded him of his journey with Clyde all those years ago. Now he was supplied and knew exactly where he was going, making this trek through Kupa much easier. Still, he could still hear Clyde's sniffles and complaints as he looked at the flat plains of the kingdom as he trekked on.

He decided to go out of his way to visit a village off the road on what would be his last day in Kupa. It was a considerable detour and one he could get little out of strategically, but a gut instinct told him he would regret not taking it.

It was a small serf village. One that he had also obviously never been to nor heard spoken much about, but it was there on his map. Apparently it was very small, even smaller than Sundorham had been, but he figured the layout and way of life would be more or less the same.

He could never go back to Sundorham. Even to visit the ruins, it was completely off his current journey's path. He wasn't sure if he really would _want_ to see what remained either. Would there still be the charr of the village in the ground? Would there still be evidence of buildings once standing there? Would there be arrows still littering the ground? He doubted the Wizard would want the effort spent cleaning it up.

Or would it have all eroded away all on its own? Could it be that grass grew over what had burned? Would it be as if nothing had ever been there at all, as if all the lives lived and lost never existed in the first place?

His chest was tight, and he felt as though he couldn't breathe. He grasped his chest and sat on the ground for a minute, trying to take in deep breaths and calm his shaking hands as he attempted to take a drink of water. He hated when this happened.

When he managed to calm, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath again. No, he couldn't see Sundorham again. He was never going to be able to say goodbye or get the closure he wanted. Still, he figured this could be the next best thing.

He had always figured that Sundorham was the lowest of the low. There was an atrocious standard of living and the people there were treated as less than dirt. The fact that the entire village was wiped off the map was barely a mild inconvenience to Kupa City. However, as he made his trek to this other serf village, he realized that he figured wrong.

As he had known before, it was in fact smaller than Sundorham by a decent amount. There were only a handful of buildings, all of which were similar thatch houses to that of Sundorham, but looked to be in far worse condition and all near falling apart.

Part of him wondered if this was just a culture shock, as he had grown accustomed to the better conditions of city life. He realized that although that fact didn't help his shock, it couldn't be. In Sundorham, everyone kept themselves as clean as possible after work, wiping all the mud and dirt from them. Sure, dirty by many standards, but attempts were still made. Here, everyone was caked in mud. Clyde's slightly more colorful clothing stood out, but the amount of dirt and grime that covered these people's clothes, he couldn't tell if the fabric was originally brown to begin with. Even the animals roaming around were muddy.

In Sundorham, there was grass with quite pretty wildflowers growing most of the year that Tricia loved to pick and put in her hair and clothes. Sure, not as grand and beautiful as ones from the royal garden, but pretty nonetheless. Tricia would make flower crowns with them and put them in their mother's hair. Once she even put one on Craig as he slept in the field. He awoke to Clyde laughing, promptly leading him to angrily chase after his sister. Here, there was none of that. No grass, no flowers, only mud. Even the fields of farmland surrounding seemed mostly dead and muddy.

Every inch of this village felt covered in mud. It was as if mud was the most defining point of it. Not to mention, it _smelled_.

"What're you doin' here?" a very thin villager asked. It was a blunt and direct question that wasn't exactly hospitable, but it wasn't explicitly rude or accusatory either. She also had a distinct accent that he had rarely heard before. The other villagers came out, and stared at him inquisitively.

"Um, well," he stammered, thrown off by the reality of this village, "I'm traveling on behalf of Kupa City, and was hoping you had an inn or something I could stay in for the night before I go about my way."

"There's no inn here," she told him in the same off tone. He should have guessed as much. None of the buildings here looked anything other than residential. He also doubted many people would go out of their way to visit such an off the beaten path village such as this. Perhaps on very rare occasions merchants might come through, but by the small amount of things he was carrying, it was clear he wasn't one.

"Well, is there any place I can stay for the night?" he asked, looking around at the other wide eyed villagers, "I have money-"

"What good is yer city money here?" a man interjected. He sounded far more accusatory.

Of course. He was a clean, well dressed young man traveling freely through Kupa unannounced. This was a village that had no visitors to the extent they hadn't even an inn. Craig had never trusted outsiders when he lived in Sundorham and always hated those with wealth, so he didn't blame them for not trusting him. It was especially a mistake for him to say he was traveling on behalf of the City, a place they would almost definitely despise as much as he did.

"Listen," he started. He knew he shouldn't say what he wanted to say. It would be incredibly risky, and he didn't know if the people here were desperate enough to sell him out. Still, his heart told him to take the risk.

"We're listenin'," the woman continued as he paused.

Craig took a deep breath, "I know you have no reason to trust me, but I came here because I want to help you. Yes, I'm traveling on behalf of the City, on behalf of the Wizard, but I promise you that I despise them as much as you do, if not more."

"What could _you_ know about what we go through? What could _anyone_ from the city know about what we've been through?" another woman spoke up. She was much younger, but still somehow haggard.

"I'm not originally from the city," Craig looked her straight in the eye, "I'm a survivor from Sundorham."

"That ain't possible! We _all_ know it was totally destroyed, it's part of why the knights took more and more from us to make up the difference. _No one_ from there got away, and if you did you'd be forced to work the fields here, not goin' around on _official business_."

"My best friend and I were at the edge of the village when it happened," Craig closed his eyes as the visions of it all came back, "We saw the arrows from the other side of the horizon, and ran away as quickly as we could. My mom was going to go find my little sister and come with us, but she...didn't. All we could do was run and run and run, not knowing if we'd starve to death trying to find another living person. We were able to eventually find the city and created fake identities for ourselves and were able to start over. I am incredibly lucky, but understand that I still know the harsh realities of Zaron more than anyone."

"Where's the proof? Sounds like some sorta trick," the man accused.

"Why would he lie?" a young girl, probably his daughter, asked. She was approximately the age Tricia had been, "He could get in awful trouble for lyin'. He's puttin' a lot of trust in us, I think." Her mother hushed her.

"You're not wrong to not trust me," Craig admitted, "But I'm telling you because I know what it's like to be fucked over by those assholes. Even getting into the city and the two of us trying to build a life together we were _still_ fucked over. My best friend was banished by the Wizard for next to nothing and the only reason I'm on this journey is that I'm doing this to save his life. I don't know if I can succeed, but if I do I'll have saved him and will do something that will bring change to Zaron. I couldn't do anything about my own village but...but if I am able to succeed, I will do everything in my power to help all the other serfs, starting with here."

Craig wasn't even that aware of what he was saying as it came out of his mouth. His plan had always been to help Clyde. He hadn't planned on doing anything about helping the serfs, and he wasn't even entirely sure that he would have the say or power to do so. Still, standing in this village, looking at these people who had it worse than he ever did, the astounding resolve overcame him.

This would also mean he had far more riding on this. That was sure a pain.

"If yer lyin' to us," the first woman said, "That'd hafta be one of the cruelest things anyone could ever do. But…" she paused, "If yer tellin' the truth...We welcome you." Craig felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a small smile.

"So, um...I can stay the night?" he clarified.

"You can stay with my son," she gestured to the outspoken man from before with the little girl, "Their own son….passed last winter, so they got the space." Craig expected the man to protest, but he nodded towards his mother. He quickly came to understand that she was the unquestioned figurehead of this village. The little girl jumped for joy, running to grab Craig's hand.

They had pottage for dinner in their thatch house, which was incredibly nostalgic. His mom's pottage was better, but it still reminded him of her in a way that him feel a lump in his throat. He also knew that in a village like this, food rationings were run thin, so he was grateful they offered in the first place to feed him as well.

The little girl hounded him with a ton of questions. She was incredibly dirty, but beneath all of that she really was no different than any little girl anywhere. Beneath the grease and mud, he could tell she had corn yellow hair and deep dimples when she smiled her crooked tooth grin.

"What's the city like?" her sky blue eyes glowed, "Have you met the princess? Is she _really_ as purty as they say? Is it true she has a billion dresses she wears around her garden?"

"Hush child, yer gonna drive him crazy," her father scolded.

"It's fine," he told him. "The city is very different from that of villages like ours. It's true, it's full of pretty princesses and beautiful gardens. Buildings are taller and better built, but not everyone can afford to live in them. There are people there just as poor and hungry as us."

The girl's eyes were glossy as it was made impeccably clear she absolutely did not care about Craig's issues with class status in the Kingdom of Kupa Keep. He paused and thought for a moment.

"But yeah...Princess Kenny is, um...really pretty. I met her once. She had, uh...a beautiful, grand bedroom full of...um, all sorts of nice... _princessy_ things I'm sure you'd love. I don't know about a _billion_ dresses but she had a nice purple one when I saw her."

The girl's eyes absolutely glowed. She jumped up and ran to the other side of their small house, probably to use that as fodder for her imagination. Of course, he was leaving out the part where Princess Kenny was a cursed corpse when he met her, and of course he had always thought that these fantasies were harmful to Tricia back in the day, that she should have just accepted that she was never going to be able to live that life.

But as he saw the dirty, thin little girl with greasy hair and crooked teeth spin around in her rags, pretending to be the princess, something in him changed.

He left the village early the next morning. He left behind some of his extra cloth and food he had with him in attempts to compensate them for their kindness. The little girl came to hug him tightly as he said his goodbyes, and while he was never one for hugs, he found himself lightly patting her shoulder.

It took him awhile to make it back to the main road, but retracing his steps made it quicker than the time it took to get there. Nonetheless, due to his little detour, he was slightly behind the estimated schedule. He was told to make contact once he reached the edge of the kingdom, so he knew he should hurry it up as he was being waited for. Until then, he had kept contact devices safely turned off. He wandered down the road to the same repetitive flat prairie scenery, starting to wonder if the kingdom was _ever_ going to end.

As soon as he grew impatient, however, he noticed a change upon the horizon. He kept his pace as to not tire himself, but gradually saw it grow and grow until eventually he could see what it was. Sure enough, it was the Lost Forest-the wide, dense, and quite dangerous forest that acted as a natural barrier to mark the end of the Kingdom of Kupa Keep.

Normally, it was considered suicide for a civilized human to try to trek across the Lost Forest alone. Knights stood at the end of the road to prevent people from even attempting it. To be fair, there was very little reason _to_ go, to the north was only the small mountain kingdom on the other side. From there, if one was able to navigate the steep mountains, was only elven territory. When people _did_ go, it was often for diplomatic purposes with a battalion of knights to protect them. As the Marsh family showed, even that level of protection often proved fruitless.

Still, it wasn't exactly like Craig had any other choice. He would have died anyway, but at least now he had a chance. Or something like that. It wasn't like he was afraid of death and he knew he was far more likely to survive than the average person. Still,he knew going through it would be quite a pain in the ass, so he wasn't exactly looking forward to it. He sighed as he finally approached the battalion of bored knights at the end of the road.

"Are you Feldspar?" one asked in an uninterested tone for him.

"I am," he said, reaching for his exit permit in one of his satchels.

The guard snatched it from him and looked at it uninterestedly. He sighed and handed it back. "You're free to go."

"Okay," he responded as he took it back from him. He didn't really blame the knights for their lack of interest. Being posted all the way out here to see other living beings come by perhaps once every few weeks must be an annoying job. The knights moved from their guarding stance to let him pass.

Craig paused for a moment as he began to walk past them. He couldn't help but turn around and look behind him, back on the ugly, plain, boring fields of nothing that made up most of Kupa. He hated it and everything it represented. But still…

"Are you going or not?" another knight interrupted his thoughts in an irritated manner.

"I'm going, I'm going," Craig frowned, turning his head back around, "Jeez, you guys don't have to be such assholes. It's not like you people at this shitty post don't have all day."

With that, he turned back around, and went through the small, sorta-pathway where the road ended and forest began. There was no road, but it was traveled enough that there were some sorts of trails and pathways for him to take at least. Sure, traveling them made him a bigger target, but he figured it was best to not get totally lost, which was supposedly extremely easy. It was called the _Lost_ Forest for a reason, he figured.

Still, he sighed and tried to get his bearings. This was where the journey _really_ began after all.

He had now entered Barbarian Territory.


	10. Chapter 9

" _What was it like traveling Zaron? Was being a merchant exciting? Do you miss it?" Tricia asked among a long series of questions to Clyde with bright, wide eyes. They eating were honey covered bread by the river, packed for them all by her mother-a real treat. It was the Spring Solstice, an important holiday to the people of Kupa. Particularly, it meant they had the day off._

" _Don't bother him with dumb questions," Craig shoved his sister lightly, yet hard enough as to nearly push her off the boulder she sat upon. Clyde himself paused, as if genuinely unsure how to answer. As if he never expected to be asked that question. Craig, on the other hand, wished he could spend the day with his friend without being bothered by everyone else. His mother had forced him to bring Tricia along._

" _I don't see how it's dumb," she scowled, placing her bread on her lap to cross her arms defiantly. "I think it's normal to ask people about themselves. You and I have only lived in this boring old place, so I think it's normal to want to know how others live."_

" _Well maybe it's none of your-"_

" _It's okay," Clyde cut him off, "I can tell her if she wants."_

" _See?" she stuck her tongue out at her brother. Craig glared at his friend for not backing him up, but Clyde merely finished the rest of his bread before reaching his hands into the running river water to get the stickiness off. He sat for a moment, fully deciding what he should say._

" _Um," Clyde pondered, "So, what specifically did you wanna hear? Like, give me one question at a time."_

" _Hmm," she licked her fingers deep in thought, "How about...Why were you a merchant? What determines that anyway? Were both your parents merchants?"_

" _Tricia, that's more than one question," Craig rolled his eyes._

" _No, I got it," Clyde responded, "Merchants are merchants basically like how serfs are serfs. My dad was born in the merchant class of Kupa Keep and so was his dad and his dad. It's what he was trained to do, what I was gonna be trained to do. I would have been a merchant my whole life and been expected to marry someone in the merchant class from Kupa to have merchant children. I could have chosen to travel like my dad or work for a permanent shop, but that's about it. Only the luckiest merchants own their own permanent shop, usually they're owned by nobility. So maybe it's kind of like being a serf or farmer, only there's a little more free will, I guess."_

" _Was your mom a merchant too?"_

" _Tricia, don't ask him about his-"_

" _Nah, she wasn't," he shrugged, yet his face fell as if he was reminded of a sad memory. "She wasn't from Kupa, either. She was from another kingdom my dad happened to be traveling through."_

" _Oh, like our mom!" Tricia exclaimed._

" _No," Craig said for his friend solemnly, having heard the story before, "Both our parents are from Kupa. It was controversial, but she was marrying down within her kingdom. But unless it's a royal political marriage, marrying or even being with someone not from the same kingdom is strictly forbidden in most of Zaron. Especially in Kupa."_

" _Yeah, but my mom. She didn't care," Clyde found himself laughing sadly at the thought, "She decided that she liked my dad and was gonna have him no matter what."_

" _And they ended up together and had you!" Tricia smiled._

" _And my older sister."_

" _You have a sister?" Tricia gasped, "Where is she!"_

 _"Tricia!" Craig scolded._

" _She was...taken. I don't know where, but it probably doesn't matter. She's probably dead now, anyway."_

" _I'm sorry, I didn't know-"_

" _Because it's dangerous, Tricia," Craig looked her in the eyes, "You can't tell anyone this. For his safety."_

" _Yeah, but it's not_ that _drastic anymore," Clyde shrugged, "My dad used his real name and presented me as his son. We're laying low, but if they wanted me dead I'd be dead. I don't think they care anymore."_

 _Tricia's eyes widened. "Because your parents aren't together anymore? Because your mom was killed in an accident?"_

" _Sure, an_ 'accident'."

It was odd being out of Kupa.

He had been in forests before. In fact, there was a very small one that naturally grew around the river near Sundorham. It was always a nice place, away from the nearly oppressive flatness that was everything else around him. Still, it was...very small. Arguably not even a forest, they probably only called it that because no one had a better frame of reference. It was just a place where trees were able to grow naturally due to the convenient water supply. It allowed Sundorham fresh water, fish, wood, wildberries, and other supplies. In hindsight, he wondered if that was partially what led them to be comparatively better off than the other serf village he just visited.

This, on the other hand, was completely different. The few trees that were easily navigable back home were nothing like what felt like a wall of them he was now facing. Between the thick trees there were shrubs and thorns that would make it exceedingly difficult for him to wander off the path like he had previously considered. The trees were also far taller than any he had ever come across, nearly blocking out all of the sunlight.

Even a few paces in, he could already _feel_ that he wasn't in Kupa anymore. Not just Kupa, but almost as if he was in a completely different universe, outside of Zaron completely. He had seen his fair share of flora, especially in the royal garden, but nothing like whatever all this was.

He tried to clear his mind and remind himself that he was on a mission. It was just a forest, not to mention one where he would have to be on his toes to not get himself killed. He had to focus on the surroundings in terms of staying away from danger, not in terms of exploring. Those glowing green bulbs on the shrubs? Not worth examining, and probably poisonous. The odd flickering lights that floated about in various colors? Probably just some weird insect that would soon give him a lot of obnoxious, itchy bites. The odd, hauntingly beautiful howling of the wind? Well, just the wind. Stay on target. No time for having some fantastical sense of awe and wonder over useless bullshit.

Still. It was a very eerie, almost nostalgic feeling. He clutched his mother's necklace tightly for a moment. Maybe this feeling was part of the forest's nature, he figured. Maybe that's why people get lost and go mad so easily. Maybe that's why the humans who lived here became, as their namesake implied, barbaric. Well, he knew better than to fall for that. He wouldn't be charmed by some weird, bullshit enchanted forest. Not him. He was the alert underworld thief Feldspar, afterall.

As soon as he told himself how alert he was, he immediately felt something hard fly into his face. At first he figured it was a large fly or something, but it felt too hard for that. He reached for his cheek and scooped it up into his hand.

It was a glowing, humanlike creature with a tiny pair of wings, no larger than an inch in size.

A fairy? No, no fairies were closer to humans than this thing. They weren't this small and didn't glow like this. This tiny creature was also without clothes, while fairies were known to be elegantly dressed, almost like elves. So a pixie then? That seemed about right, they were known for being little pests who swarmed around like bugs. It did look oddly buglike, with huge black eyes relative for its body and spiky short hair that almost looked like vines coming out of its head. The pixie shook its head from the impact and fluttered its wings, rising itself from Craig's hand. It fluttered around Craig's head curiouslyfor a moment.

Craig swatted the pest away and continued to go down the path. He didn't have time for this.

He knew to most people in Kupa seeing a pixie would be a big deal. Actually, _any_ creature like that would be an excitement. Yet to him, he had only heard that picture were annoying, unintelligent pests. Clyde had even said so, as he'd seen some back in his days of travel. Much of Kupa glamorized the idea of magical creatures.

Afterall, any magical creature was banned from Kupa. Any dealings with nonhuman kingdoms rarely had them visit Kupa itself-generally they would meet in their lands or in neutral territory. Which made sense, given that the Wizard was harsh and thorough to put the hammer down on any magical _humans_ that weren't beneficial to him personally. For that reason, people in Kupa had an obsession over magical things, even if they had to keep it to themselves to avoid accusations of treason. A sort of treason Craig never had to worry about, as he never saw the appeal.

After a few minutes, he thought that maybe it wasn't that the forest was specifically enchanted to make people feel odd. Maybe it was being around so much magical energy in general. Magical energy that that would be instantly be smothered out in Kupa, now being allowed to flow freely, overwhelming to those not used to it. He sighed. It didn't really matter. He just had to stay focused.

It was as if time passed differently there as well. He wasn't sure how long he was walking before he realized it was suddenly getting dark very quickly. He decided that he would be most vulnerable while asleep, meaning he should find a secure, hidden place off of the main path to rest. He wasn't going to set up camp or start any fires, he needed to be as concealed and lowkey as possible.

He felt thorns poking at him as he tried to wander through the brush, hoping that none of them were laced with some sort of poison. He also made sure he kept track of each of his steps and avoided going to far to prevent himself from getting lost and being unable to find his way back to the main path. He also had to keep on his toes to make sure he didn't come across any hostile creature...or worse. It was a pain to keep track of all these things, but not exactly hard for him given his past experiences.

Just as it was about to get completely pitch black dark, he found a hollowed out tree. He examined it carefully and saw that it was full of dirt and wouldn't be the most comfortable fit, but that it would work. He plopped himself down beside it and took out a piece of bread and cheese from his satchel. It was among his most perishable food he had with him, so he best eat it now. He ate it, took a swig of water, and went into the log. It wasn't comfortable, just as he thought, but he was able to fall asleep just fine after he got used to the howling wind and odd, unsettling sounds of the Lost Forest at night.

He awoke with the rising sun. It actually surprised him somewhat that it was bright enough to do so, given how much of it was blocked out by the foliage. He pushed himself out of the log with a sigh. He made it through the night with all of his things unharmed. As he ate a bit for breakfast, he pondered that this was far easier than he anticipated. He examined the scratches on him and noted that none of them appeared to be in any way infected.

Maybe the rumors about the Lost Forest were greatly exaggerated. As he got up to go about his way he took a drink of water. His supply was getting low-he would have to keep his eyes and ears open for a water source at some point. As green and full of life as this forest was, it probably shouldn't be too hard.

He made it back to the main pathway moderately easily. He did worry himself slightly for a moment as the shrubs did appear to look different from before. He had worried that the rumors about the Lost Forest changing mysteriously were true, rendering him lost. Then he decided to stop worrying about it. If the landscape changed, then so be it. He remembered the number of steps he took in each direction, he didn't need to rely on visual cues. It worked, and soon enough he made it back to the main pathway. Comparing the path to the the direction of the sun, he knew that it was facing the right direction, and carried on about his way.

He went down the path the exact same way he did the previous day, only this time with more open ears to try and listen for any sort of running water. It had become easier for him to ignore the strangeness of the forest, to suppress the odd nagging feeling within him.

Realizing he had suppressed the nagging feeling only made him take notice of it again. That was annoying.

As if interrupting his thoughts, he suddenly heard a faint sound of running water. It had to be a river or stream of some sort!

He looked towards where the sound was coming from. The plant life here was especially thick, which was bound to be annoying to try and traverse. Still, he didn't know which way it flowed relative to the path, so he was just as well trying to get to it now. He started to navigate towards it as best he could, following the sounds while also taking mind of the way he was going to find his way back. As the sound of flowing water got louder, he knew it couldn't be far. It made him relieved, being close to the main path meant he didn't have to mind his was as much.

Just a little further, it opened up to a nice little stream with a decently wide river bank for him to sit down at. He plopped down The water was crystal clear with some fish swimming down it. He debated whether he should try to catch some to eat later, wondering if the fire he'd need to prepare them would be worth the risk.

He heard a snap of some twigs behind him. He quickly stood up and unsheathed his blade, fully alert.

Nothing.

He wandered a little closer and used his blade to pull back some of the vines and branches. Still nothing. He waited a few more moments on alert and hesitantly put his blade back. It might have been a pixie or a small animal or something. He sighed, letting his guard down, and reached for his canteen. He drank what was left in it to allow maximum space and held it to the water, allowing the current to flow into it. Then there was another snap.

From then, it all happened too fast for Craig to know what hit him.

One second he was minding his own business filling up his canteen and the next moment he was completely flipped over and pinned down on his back. The force against the back of his head hitting the ground hurt the worst, making him initially fear that he cracked his skull that was only barely padded by his hat. His ears rung and his vision was incredibly blurry. He tried to force himself to breathe and feel himself out. He determined that he didn't crack his skull, but a concussion was very much a possibility.

He only then realized he couldn't move his body. His right arm was pinned under his back, crushed by the force of his own body weight. His other arm, along with his torso, were pinned down by _something_. He closed his eyes tight and opened them once more. He slowly blinked to rid himself of the stars in his vision and get his eyes to focus. _Something_ was on top of him, and if he didn't want to die, he had to figure out what it was. Gradually, his vision regained its focus, allowing him to view the figure on top of him.

It was...a person?

Craig blinked some more, wondering if his eyes were tricking him. They weren't.

It very much was a young male on top of him pinning him down. If he had to guess, they were probably about the same age. Of course, because of the way he was situated on top of him, limiting Craig's range of movement, he couldn't get a good look at him.

He could see that he had blond hair that was extremely messy, as if he hadn't attempted to take care of it a day in his life. He was also pale, much paler than Craig. His face was thin with a pointy, but not at all unattractive nose. Most interestingly, his face was covered with black lines snaking his face, even covering his eyelids. It was a very odd fashion choice that Craig had never seen before. Despite having attacked him and continuously pinning him down, he didn't look _angry._ More like he was confused, his gaze was carefully analyzing Craig.

The eyes that were analyzing him were deep blue, like the color of a twilight sky. Craig also noticed that there seemed to be flecks of yellow in them. He realized that he had never seen eyes like that before.

Craig slowly opened his mouth to speak, despite all the air being knocked out of his lungs moments ago. "Who-"

As soon as noise came out of Craig's mouth, the attacker's expression turned from inquisitive to on guard, angry even. In less than a second, the attacker took his free arm and pulled out a blade. He brought it up to where Craig's jaw met his neck, making it clear to Craig that he best not resist.

He started demanding something in strange words in a coarse language Craig didn't understand. When Craig didn't respond, he pressed his blade dangerously against Craig's skin, threatening to slit his throat. Any confused look in his eyes were gone, now glaring into Craig's own like daggers. He demanded things in the strange language again.

"I don't-" Craig managed. It was harder to speak than he expected. He hoped it wasn't from hitting his head too hard.

"Do you understand _this_?" the blond asked. He had a strange accent, but yes, Craig could understand perfectly.

"I...yeah, I do," was all he could manage.

"You're far from home," he accused, "What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me, but why exactly are _you_ doing here?" Craig found his eyebrows furrowing, "I was minding my own business, thank you very much, and I didn't need someone attacking me out of nowhere unprompted."

"Excuse me? You're lucky I haven't killed you!" he scowled, "Don't you know that it is illegal for your kind to trespass in our territory? I have every right to take down an invader, just like you would if I wandered uninvited into yours! Which, I'm sure you know, is an action _your kind_ never hesitates with."

" _Your_ territory?" Craig raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean _your_ -"

Craig froze mid sentence. To be fair, it was something that should have been obvious, something that he should have figured out right away. What sort of human did he _expect_ to be in this forest? What _other_ sort of person would have attacked him like this?

"You're a Barbarian," Craig stated. It wasn't a question.

"Obviously."

He was right. It _was_ obvious, given the context. It's just, even if this guy could sneak up and get the best of him in a blink of an eye, even if he was covered in face paint and had extremely messy hair, even if he spoke a foreign language and had a thick accent, he still was absolutely nothing like he expected a Barbarian to be.

So he said it. "I didn't think Barbarians looked like...Well…"

Barbarians were supposed to be huge, brutish people. The men were tall and muscular with perfectly triangular shaped torsos that they showed off with their lack of shirts. The women were also very large and said to be noticeably more masculine than any other human woman. Both would have long flowing hair that was corse from lack of care. They lugged around large clubs or swords that most civilized people, even the best trained knights, would find difficult to carry. They lived in the forest or on clifflands, using their strong, warlike bodies to climb up trees or cliffs. They were brutal, able to crack open someone's skull with their mere fists. Even the youngest of children were said to be able to stone someone to death with a single throw or break a neck with a clean snap. Rumor had it, they often even ate the bodies of the innocent they killed.

Even if this guy on top of him _was_ dirty and shirtless, he didn't seem anything like that.

"Like what?" the Barbarian frowned again, raising an eyebrow.

"Attractive?" he found himself blurting out. Instantly he regretted it. That wasn't the word he was looking for.

No, it wasn't that he was suddenly attracted to this guy on top of him. It was just, well...Barbarians were supposed to be...big and brutish and _ugly_. Not someone smaller than him. Not someone with a babyface, especially a baby face that was _objectively_ pleasing. It wasn't that _he_ found his face attractive, he told himself. Anyone would. If he showed his portrait to anyone on the streets of Kupa City, they would all respond that he was a perfectly nice looking young man...Well, except of course for the hair and face paint. If he cleaned up, brushed his hair, and wiped off the paint then surely he could pass as anyone from Kupa-

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?" the Barbarian nearly growled, interrupting his thoughts, "You think we're all some ugly monsters or something?"

"Well…" Craig trailed off, "That is what we're told. You guys are supposed to be all huge beefcakes or whatever, aren't you?"

"You're from Kupa, aren't you?"

"Yeah," he said casually. He had started to completely ignore the direness of the situation and the fact that he was still pinned down. The Barbarian frowned.

"Has it ever _occured_ to you that people from other parts of Zaron are just as complex and varied as Kupa? You don't, do you? You people from Kupa only ever think of yourselves, never caring about anyone from outside your own kingdom."

"Isn't that a hypocritical statement?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Excuse me?"

"You said I shouldn't paint people with a broad brush, but there you are presuming an awful lot about everyone in Kupa. Just thought you should know that."

The Barbarian frowned and said something in his language under his breath. Then with another sigh, he got off of Craig. This action surprised him.

Slowly, despite his pounding head, Craig sat up. Immediately, the Barbarian jumped to his knees, quickly grabbing his blade once more and held it out defensively towards him. This allowed Craig to get a fuller look at his attacker.

He was shirtless, with the wrapping, snake-like black body paint on his face winding around to his arms and torso. He had a bow and arrow set around his back, the leather strap holding it crossing his chest. He wore brown pants that looked to be made of some sort of animal skin. On his feet were black boots lined with a sort of fur. As he figured, he was small. Not tiny or petite, but smaller than average build, tall heighted Craig. He was definitely not ripped like Barbarians were said to be, but instead very lean. That said, there wasn't an inch of body fat on him, every bit of him covered in that very lean muscle.

He leaned forward more towards Craig with his blade in a more threatening manner, trying to create a more threatening scowl. Craig looked closer at his dirty hand that gripped the blade. It was trembling. This confused him greatly. This guy, this _barbarian_ couldn't be _scared_ could he?

"Listen," Craig raised both of his hands up in a surrendering motion, "You're right. I have been told that all you Barbarians are giant thugs who kill anyone on sight. I didn't ask for permission or anything to come through your territory or whatever, which yeah I guess is technically trespassing. Though since you haven't killed me yet and I'm clearly wrong about your type, maybe you should calm down and hear me out as to _why_ I'm here so we can both go about our merry way?"

"That's what I asked from you in the first place," the Barbarian retorted.

"Oh yeah," Craig pondered, "You did, didn't you?"

"Get on with it before I actually kill you!" the Barbarian yelled. He was getting pissed now.

"Okay, okay, fine," Craig frowned, "You made me hit my head _really_ hard, you know? I probably got a concussion-"

"You have ten seconds!" he threatened.

"I was getting there, geez!"

"Eight seconds."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm starting," Craig huffed, "You don't need to kill me, I'm not even here to stay in your precious forest territory or whatever. I'm just passing through because, you know, it's kind of in the way of where I'm _actually_ trying to go."

"And where might that be?" he raised an eyebrow.

"The High Elf Kingdom," he crossed his arms, "On an important diplomatic mission."

The Barbarian laughed. So much so that he ended up dropping his guard and let his blade fall to the ground. While laughing, he muttered some things in his odd language again.

"What's so funny?" Craig asked defensively. He knew it was dangerous and all, but he didn't get how it was any way some laughing matter for him to find humor in.

"Didn't you say you were from Kupa?" he said as his laughter calmed down, wiping away a tear that had formed in one of his vibrant blue eyes.

"Well, yeah?"

"Then either you're absolutely insane or have a death wish," he said, "Everyone knows your two kingdoms hate each other more than anything. They'll kill you on sight."

"Well, yeah, obviously I know that. I knew when I took the mission that I'll probably be killed. I don't _want_ to die or anything, but I didn't really have a choice. And, I mean...my mission _could_ work."

"What sort of mission is it?" he asked.

Craig was thrown off by the question. There were various ways he could answer it. It probably wouldn't be best to tell the truth, that he was going to kind of attempt to steal the magical stick to give it to a kingdom to change the power structure of Zaron and all. Even if Barbarians were neutral, it wasn't exactly a good look. So instead, he'd give his cover story.

"I'm actually going on an attempted peace mission on behalf of the royal court," he shrugged, allowing himself to sit in a more comfortable position on a patch of soft moss at the riverbank. He reached for his spilled canteen and filled it up once more.

"Peace?" he raised an eyebrow, "There's no way your kingdom would want peace with them. Not after-"

"Well you know, things have changed," Craig droned on, swatting away another pixie that flew by his face, "The old king has been dead for years, the princess is kinda useless, power balance within the kingdom hasn't been what it was, all those sorts of things. The Wizard might hate the elves, but the fact is being enemies with them isn't exactly profitable."

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" he asked in a softer voice. Craig reached into his satchel and pulled out the letter from the Wizard and tossed it to him. He realized he wasn't entirely sure if the Barbarian could read, especially in this language, but he seemed to have no trouble as he opened it up and looked at the words carefully.

"Believe me now?" Craig asked.

"Feldspar," he said slowly in his thick accent, reading the name on the paper.

"That's me," he said, reaching his hand to take it back, to which the Barbarian thankfully complied, "Now if you don't mind me, I'll be going now." With that, he grabbed his canteen, got back up on his feet, and headed back towards the path which he strayed. His vision had stars, but he did his best to ignore it.

"Wait!" the Barbarian quickly scrambled to his feet as well.

"What?" he looked back over his shoulder back at him.

"My name is Tweek," he called out, "I think since I learned your name, it's only fair for me to tell you mine."

"I don't really care," Craig responded bluntly. Barbarians were sure weird. In a way different from what he expected, anyway. He couldn't wait to forget about this odd encounter forever.

"Well, listen!" he frowned once more, "There's a reason I'm out here on my own. As is customary, I was told to leave my family until I could come back with some big contribution to them."

"I still don't really care."

"Well, if you're going to try and make peace between Kupa and the High Elf Kingdom, then maybe I could try to make peace as well. Despite what you may believe, we don't _like_ being enemies with everyone. At least...parts of the royal family don't. They would really appreciate me changing that."

"Well, you do that," Craig said uninterestedly. He wasn't aware that they had a royal family as well, but frankly he didn't care. Though he supposed it was typical, even this sort of warlike society would have privileged filth.

"We don't exactly have a _good_ relationship with the High Elf Kingdom, but it's substantially better than that between that of them and Kupa. Unlike you, they wouldn't feel the need to shoot me on sight."

"What are you trying to get at?" Craig groaned, getting very annoyed very fast.

"I think I should go with you!" Tweek offered, "I could help you with your travels and make things far safer for you, and in turn now three kingdoms have the potential for peace. It would be a win for everyone involved."

"Absolutely not."


	11. Chapter 10

"I'm going to ask nicely once," Craig stopped in his tracks, rubbing his temples in frustration, "Stop following me."

"I have every right to keep my eye on a trespasser."

"Yeah well, I'm not letting you come _with_ me," Craig rolled his eyes. He had made his way back to the main path and continued down it for several hours now, but no matter how many times he objected, the annoying barbarian would remain only a few yards behind him. It was grating on his nerves.

"Fine," Tweek crossed his arms, "Then I just so happen to be going to the High Elf Kingdom, too. We're both going on the same path. If you don't want me officially with you, you won't receive any of my help when things get more dangerous."

"This is ridiculous," Craig huffed as he continued on, "I'm doing this alone."

"Like I said, then you'll do it without my help."

"I don't _need_ any hel-"

With that, a loud noise was emitted via the shuffling of leaves to the right of the path. Instantly, a large creature that Craig couldn't recognize, especially at the speed that which it was going, flew out directly towards him. Caught off guard, he merely found himself falling to the ground, unable to reach for his blade in time.

Within a blink of an eye, something shot out at the creature, piercing its body. The creature fell a few inches away from him-if another split second had past, it would have surely mauled him. Craig got to his knees to examine what it was more closely.

A dragon? A very small one no larger than a cat, but still with razor sharp claws and fangs visible due to the way it fell open-mouthed. It was was dead, laying in a pool of its own blood from where it was pierced through the heart by a bow and arrow.

"You were saying?" Tweek asked.

"There are _dragons_ in this god awful forest?" Craig groaned.

"Only ones small enough to fly through the trees," Tweek answered, walking over to where the dragon fell to pull out his arrow, "Their scales are too strong for your blade, by the way. I have special coated arrows that are able to penetrate them."

"How do you people deal living with this shit flying around every day?" Craig asked bewildered.

"I won't lie to you," Tweek sighed, offering a hand to Craig to help him up. Craig refused it and instead stood up on his own. Tweek frowned but continued, "It is scary living here. When I was younger especially, I was always paranoid of everything. I think many of us are like that, but it was particularly bad for me, making kids my age look down upon me. Then one day I decided to stop being scared and train hard to make sure I could always protect myself."

"That was a rhetorical question," Craig replied emotionlessly, brushing off the dirt from his pants, "I didn't want your life story."

The Barbarian glared at him. "Fine, get mauled to death next time a creature attacks you. You should know that the deeper you go, the more dangerous the forest becomes."

Craig frowned. This guy was annoying as all get out, but he was right. He _did_ kind of just save his life.

"Fine...thank you," Craig said. He paused for a moment.

He really didn't want a companion. He really wasn't a people person in general, Clyde was his only real friend for a reason. For a mission as delicate as this, having someone with him would only cause more trouble. Especially if it was some barbarian he knew nothing about and had no real reason to trust.

Not that he thought this guy was lying about his intentions. He seemed oddly earnest enough, and part of Craig even wondered if he was even _capable_ of lying. He didn't kill Craig when he had the chance and didn't _let_ him die either. Despite demonstrating twice now that he was a capable fighter, he seemed to go against all preconceptions Craig had about the barbarians.

"I-I guess I don't mind you following me until we get out of this place," Craig finally relented, "We can talk about everything once we're out of this hellforest."

"I'm glad you're being reasonable-"

"But please don't talk to me unless actually necessary. I don't like pointless conversations."

"Fine."

"Glad we're in agreement," Craig said as he continued going down the pathway.

And so the two continued on for the rest of the day in silence. Since Tweek was obviously more familiar with the surroundings, he took the lead a few paces ahead while Craig silently followed. There were no more incidents, making Craig wonder if perhaps the barbarian was making things up when he claimed that it would get more dangerous. Although Craig's head was still somewhat sore, it felt much better. He probably didn't have a concussion after all.

When night fell, Tweek broke the silence and told them they had to find shelter for the night. Craig was ready to try to find an old hollowed log once more, but Tweek guided him in a very specific direction. Craig took note that the barbarian was counting his steps, not using the visual markers of the surroundings as a guide, heightening his theory about it spontaneously changing. The flora was very thick, Craig sure that he had at least a dozen magical thorns poking into him. Yet he also figured if this guy was doing the same thing shirtless, it must be okay. Unless of course barbarians just has some weird immunity from living here for who knows how many generations.

As he was thinking there was an odd yell, from what Craig couldn't identify. Tweek quickly stopped in his tracks, grabbing Craig's wrist . Craig instinctively yanked away from his grip, causing the barbarian to instantly glare at him while bringing a finger to his mouth to indicate that he should remain silent. After about a minute of silence from both the two as well as the strange creature, Tweek eventually broke his still position and kept going.

"You don't need to yank away from me when I'm trying to not get us both eaten," Tweek grumbled quietly.

"What was that?"

"An ogre," Tweek huffed, "We're near the swamp areas of the forest, so you have to take the threat of them seriously."

"And you're taking me _deeper_ into it," Craig stated. It wasn't a question. He also wasn't previously aware that ogres were _another_ deadly part of this forest. It sure kept bringing more and more obnoxious surprises.

"I know a place."

As it got darker and darker, Craig began to question this more and more. Perhaps he _shouldn't_ have trusted Tweek. Maybe he was actually taking him to some ogre lair or even his own barbarian camp. That would be incredibly annoying for him to get out of, he thought.

Suddenly Tweek stopped at the base of an impressively large and wide tree. He bent down to its large extending roots and knocked on it three times in a seemingly specific rhythm.

"What are you doing now?" Craig asked, mildly annoyed.

Before Tweek would be able to respond, however, the tree suddenly glowed. As if by some magical flame, brighter lights shot out of the tree in the shape of an arch. The sudden reminder of the last time he saw magical flames made Craig sick to his stomach in an instant, almost sending him into a panic. Yet before said feelings could grow, the bark encompassed by the arch faded away, proving that it was an enchanted door or gateway.

"Hey it's that kid again," a high pitched voice accused. Craig couldn't see where the voice was coming from.

"We want to stay here for the night," Tweek announced in a dignified voice, the same one he used when first trying to convince Craig to let him join.

"After all you put us through?" the voice accused once more. Craig wondered if it was a disembodied voice. That was, until he looked down.

It was a gnome. Or at least he figured it was one, based on pictures he had seen. Little weird stocky creatures. Somewhat like dwarves but considerably smaller and lived in trees instead of underground caverns in far off mountain ranges. Unlike dwarves who were known to do business and maintain relations with other kingdoms civilly, gnomes did no such thing keeping to themselves...unless they were stealing. They were infamous for being pesky thieves. Craig instinctively reached for his necklace.

"Hey, you should be thanking me that I didn't put you in _more_ trouble," Tweek frowned, "I could always go back and report how you-"

"Alright, alright!" the gnome raised his hands up, "But who's the newbie. He doesn't look like one of you."

"Feldspar," Tweek introduced him, "We're traveling on important business together."

"Hello," Craig responded emotionlessly.

"Wait, you understand me?" the gnome gasped.

"Yes, he's from Kupa," Tweek said walking past the gnome to enter into the tree. Craig hesitated, not knowing how much he should trust a magical doorway, but did.

The inside of the tree was very odd. Although the tree was already massive, it was apparent that magic greatly expanded it. Everything was obviously made of wood, being carved from the inside of a tree trunk and all, and contained what looked like little apartments carved out going up the very tall tree, connected by wood ladders, some built into the tree itself while others were free standing. About a dozen or so other gnomes rushed out, quickly surrounding the two humans' feet. They chattered, too many of them in too many high pitched squeals for Craig to really pick up on what they were saying individually beyond the generic curious comments and questions.

"Hey, you're from Kupa?" one asked, trying to use Craig's pants to climb up his leg.

"Get off," Craig swatted at him. He patted himself, making sure nothing was stolen. He only just met gnomes for the first time and he could already tell he would likely find all of them intolerable.

"Don't worry about them," Tweek assured Craig before turning to the gnome that let them in, "We can stay at the top, right?"

"Sure, sure," the presumably head gnome rolled his eyes.

With that, Tweek signalled for Craig to follow him. With so many little gnomes crowding him, he found it quite difficult to avoid stepping on them. He didn't like them, but he didn't want them crushed to death for it. Tweek, who clearly knew the way, guided him to one of the built-in ladders at the wall of the tree that had gaps large enough for a human to climb, and began to ascend up it.

Craig had obviously climbed and scaled many buildings, ladders, and so forth in his many years of thievery. Yet Tweek, presumably from all his years of tree climbing, was much quicker. It shocked him how quick he was, not at all seeming cautious over the tall height they were reaching, as if it were second nature. Craig himself wasn't afraid of heights, but even still once he was at neck-breaking-if-you-fall heights, he did try to take his time and make sure he wouldn't slip.

After a few minutes of climbing up the seemingly endless height of the tree, eventually they approached what looked like a ceiling of sorts with a decently large square carved out at the end of the ladder for them to climb through, though with a several foot gap between the end of the ladder and it. Tweek pulled himself into it no problem. When Craig reached it, however, he hesitated.

He made the mistake of looking down. He was so impossibly high that he could barely see the bottom. To get into the room at the top, he would have to let go and pull himself up by his own weight without slipping. He wasn't ever afraid of heights before, but this didn't seem safe. A rare sense of panic crept over him.

"Give me your hand," Tweek reached out for him.

"I don't like this," Craig said, "I don't wanna die of falling to my death in a goddamn gnome tree thing."

"I won't let you fall," Tweek told him, "I promise."

After a few moments of hesitation, slowly Craig removed one hand from the ladder and reached for the blond's hand. Tweek grasped it tightly and pulled it up as Craig placed his other hand at the ledge. Craig was able to push off where his feet were on the ladder, and between the two of them, he was able to be pulled into the room.

When Craig saw the room he was in, he was shocked. It was very human sized, with beds, tables, and everything one would find in a normal human dwelling, albeit carved entirely out of wood. Many of the things were carved directly from the tree, unable to be moved. Not only that, but the craftsmanship and small details was beyond that of anything Craig had _ever_ seen in Kupa City, even in the homes of the wealthy. It was lit, but much like the rest of the tree, Craig suddenly realized he had no idea what by. Perhaps a magic of some kind.

"This is their room for humans or other similarly sized creatures," Tweek told him, "Obviously, they don't use it much anymore. I think here they only had it because they wanted to keep with tradition."

"What do you mean?" Craig asked.

"What do mean 'What do you mean'?" Tweek raised an eyebrow.

"Aren't these guys pests that pretty much just steal from humans?" Craig wandered over to the large bed. It had a quilt on it from the same scratchy looking material the gnomes clothes were made of.

"You don't know the history?" he asked skeptically.

"Nope, and I don't really care," Craig said laying down on the bed. Being wood, it was obviously hard. No complaints though, he slept in worse situations.

"Well you should," Tweek frowned, irritation in his voice, "It was _your_ people who banished them from their homeland, afterall."

"And where might that be?" Craig yawned, stretching his arms and putting them behind his head.

"They really don't tell you," Tweek said astonishedly, "They don't tell you how Kupa was originally the gnome's kingdom? How before you were hideous farmland, Kupa was a very peaceful forest, far more inviting than this one? How the gnomes and your people tried living in harmony selling their woodwork until _your wizard_ decided to destroy everything they had and banish them here?"

"Huh," Craig's eyes widened. That _was_ awful. Yet after everything he knew about the Wizard and his centuries of influence, he couldn't exactly say it was the most surprising revelation he had ever heard.

"I know more than you about how much they steal," Tweek frowned, "But it's still not right."

"You keep acting as though I've always been in some privileged authority to do something about it."

"Aren't you?" Tweek accused, "I know you said you didn't have much of a choice in this mission, but you're still a diplomat aren't you?"

Craig laughed at the thought, "Absolutely not."

"Then what?"

"I'm just a street thief," he shrugged. After he said it, he wondered if he shouldn't. Would it give away that he was actually trying to steal from the High Elf Kingdom? He decided to continue, "They know it's a dangerous suicide mission, so they might as well use someone disposable for it. It was either this or being hung. They know I wouldn't just run off when I had my friend's life at stake." All of that was technically true.

"So you don't have any sort of background in this?" Tweek said incredulously, sitting on the end of the bed, "Yet they expect you to make negotiations?"

"They gave me some training."

"I see," Tweek looked down, pondering this for a few moments. As he dwelt on the new information, suddenly his expression irritated. "Hey, if you're a thief then you have no right to judge gnomes for that!"

Craig awoke before Tweek the next morning. Although the bed was big, neither of them would have been comfortable sharing it, so Tweek opted to sleep on the sofa on the other side of the room. He looked so peaceful in his sleep, wrapped up in a little ball, that it was hard to believe this was the guy who attacked him, constantly nagged at him, and was able to kill a dragon in the blink of an eye with a single shot.

He was sure a weird one. He wondered if all barbarians were like this. It was hard to believe that he came from society that was known for brutally murdering and eating people without any just cause. Perhaps, just as a lot of information in Kupa was filtered and misconstrued, it was all false propaganda all along.

With a sigh, he decided to see what there was in the kitchen section of the quarters. Some gnomes came up via a smaller ladder built alongside the human friendly one last night and gave them some of their dinner. They also informed the two of them that there was food readily available for them to eat in the morning. It was very odd that so many of the citizens decided to be so gracious to them, _especially_ if Tweek had caused them trouble and Craig was from a kingdom they would have reasons to despise. He almost wondered if it was poison, hesitating to eat until after he saw Tweek take quite a few bites. He also made sure all of his stuff was still there. It was.

He noticed a teapot and some dried up leaves. There was a dug out hole in the tree bark full of water, he presumed either magic or a form of liquidy sap, with a wood cup beside it. He filled the cup and the water seemed to replenish itself. It was warm, so he poured it directly into the pot along with putting tea leaves in the filter. No heat would be required. Convenient.

As for food, it was regular sized. A lot of things one would expect forest people to eat, albeit things he never recognized and all nonperishable due to their lack of human visitors. Dry fruits of very strange vibrant colors, a type of cracker, some jerkified meat, some jam. He decided he could make a decent breakfast out of it, grabbing two wooden plates. He took small bites of each unrecognizable thing to determine what would go well together and spread them out on the crackers. He then determined that the tea sat long enough and went to put it in two cups. He placed all of them on the dining table in the center of the quarters.

"Hey," Craig went over to Tweek to nudge him slightly, "Wake up."

The barbarian groaned. Craig couldn't tell if they were odd, generic moans or words in his own language.

"Hey," Craig shook him slightly harder, "I made us breakfast."

Suddenly, the sleeping boy was wide awake and sat up. "You made _us_ breakfast?" he asked with disbelief in his voice, "Why?"

"Might as well, since I was doing it anyway. No point waiting for you to get up and making it yourself," he explained with a frown, "You don't need to make it weird."

"Well...thanks, Feldspar."

"Yeah, yeah," Craig rolled his eyes as he turned to walk to the table, "Let's just eat so we can get out of here."

"Yeah," Tweek agreed.

They sat eating in mostly silence. The tea was your typical tasting tea and the food Craig prepared wasn't bad at all. The crackers were a little old, but all and all the meal had far more flavor than anything he'd have eaten as a child.

"How many more days in this forest?" Craig asked.

"Two or three, I'd think."

"The gnomes-They seem hospitable and didn't steal any of my shit," Craig noted through a mouthful of food, "It seems they have an odd history with you. You can trust them?"

"They won't steal from me," Tweek told him, "Not after our history, they owe me big time for having sympathy for them. After when I was young, all the times that they-"

"Wasn't asking for a story," Craig cut him off, "But that's good to know, I guess."

"They aren't all that bad," Tweek said, taking a sip of his tea, "I know you don't want a story, but I have more reason than probably anyone to have a grudge against them. They stole from me, terrorized-"

"That's giving me the whole story."

"Why are you so rude?" Tweek asked, slamming his cup to the table, "After all that I'm helping you-If it weren't for me-" his face turned red and seemed unable to find the words he wanted to say through his frustrations. He said something under his breath in his language, probably a curse word.

"Are all barbarians as talkative as you?" Craig threw back at him, "I thought you guys were brutes who are kill first, ask questions later, not...naggy."

"I told you, we're not some collective hivemind!"

"Well? On average then."

"You answer my question first!"

"This is stupid," Craig stood up, taking his finished plate and cup back to the kitchen area, "If you don't like that I'm a rude asshole-which I knowingly am, by the way-you don't have to keep following me."

"I'm not doing it for you!"

"Then who?" Craig found his irritation levels rising dangerously high for his standards, "You saw that I'm going on a mission and you're trying to tag along. You could have gone on your own if you wanted to do some diplomacy. You could have done it without me. You're the one who attacked me and decided on the spot that you're going to leave your homeland for some suicide mission with a stranger from a kingdom you hate."

"I _told_ you, I have wanted peace for a long time! I can't return home until I prove myself and you're already going on an official mission with official paperwork, so what better opening is that? Trust me, I wish it wasn't someone like _you_."

"Whatever. Just-Just do what you want. I don't care anymore" Craig told him. He forced himself to take a deep breath to prevent any further annoying escalation.

From there, the two got ready to go about their way in silence. Craig wasn't nearly as scared going back down, irritation already controlled his emotions too much. They said their proper goodbyes to the gnomes, both trying to sound cordial through their annoyed dispositions, and Tweek guided him out and back onto the main path.

Tweek was clearly more upset than Craig was, frowning and walking in a pace that was clearly full of pent up anger. Craig still didn't get it, there was nothing nor anyone that was forcing him to stay. They only knew each other for a day now. Yet still he went on, guiding the way in silence, only stopping to gather some fruits growing on a bush.

"Edible," was all he said.

At another point, Tweek tackled Craig seemingly unprompted into the shrubbery.

"Ogre," he whispered into his ear as he remained pinned on top of him.

Sure enough, less than a minute later there were very loud footsteps approaching. The footsteps got closer and closer, until Craig could see its slimy dark green legs mere feet away from him. It roared. Craig stopped breathing. Could it smell them? Would it swing its large club to try and get them out? Tweek tightened his grip, practically hugging him.

However after a few moments of the ogre pausing, it continued going about its way. It crossed the path to the other side. They remained laying there in silence for a few more minutes to be safe until finally Tweek wordlessly got off of him and went back to the path. He didn't try to help him up or wait for him, merely continuing down the path. Craig brushed himself off and ran to join him.

He did wonder how powerful ogres must be that Tweek's only action against them was to hide and stay silent. He was able to shoot down a small dragon in a single shot, afterall. But he knew Tweek wasn't going to talk to him, and he figured he didn't really need to know that much anyway.

That night, they stayed in an abandoned treehouse. Tweek still wasn't speaking to him, so he didn't bother explaining it. As much as Craig liked the newfound silence, he started to question whether traveling so long on bad terms really was the best circumstance. Especially when this was two nights he got out of staying in a dirty log for the night.

"How long does that paint on you last?" Craig asked as they ate the fruits Tweek collected for dinner. It was still somewhat light out, they came to the treehouse in the late afternoon. It looked faded slightly in some spots, so he presumed it wasn't permanent.

"It depends," he answered abruptly.

"Okay, how much longer until this fades off?"

"I don't know."

"Do all barbarians wear it?"

"Depends."

Yep, still mad. He showed no signs of budging right now, so Craig decided to leave it alone. He could always try it again in the morning, after they both slept it off.

"Listen…" Tweek finally let out after another minute of silence.

"I'm listening."

"You're right," Tweek told him, "You _are_ on an important mission, and I _am_ inserting myself into it. You don't have any reason to trust me or think that I'll benefit you once we leave this forest."

Craig's eyebrows raised. That wasn't what he expected to hear from him.

"It's alright," Craig said after a few more moments, "You want what's best for your people and...so do I."

"I thought you were doing this for your friend, not for Kupa-"

"Not for Kupa," Craig explained, "For all the people _in_ Kupa who have to deal with their bullshit."

"You say that Kupa discriminates other races and kicked out the gnomes, and you're right," Craig told him, "But you're wrong in thinking that everyone in Kupa is _privileged_ or _complacent_ in this. A lot of people in Kupa have it far worse off than most places."

"Worse?" Tweek asked.

"Well first of all, it's not just magical races they keep out. They also take away any commoners born there with abilities as infants, probably killing them. Very few live in nice houses or whatever, the majority are piss poor farmers who are practically slaves to their own land, only ever working day in and day out for scraps. Don't even get me started on their _real_ slave business. The rich are all greedy assholes who don't care about anyone but themselves. They would rather let children starve in front of them than give up a single one of their jewels. _That's_ why I was a thief, by the way. Not because I wanted to, not because I took from people for no reason, but because my friend and I were starving street kids, and none of them ever cared about us."

He had no idea why he was sharing this. He didn't need to share this.

"So you can give your backstory, but I can't?" Tweek said. Craig looked to him and saw in the dimming twilight that he had a smirk on his face.

"...Yeah, I guess I just did that, didn't I?"

"You're not really a people person, are you?" Tweek quietly laughed.

"Absolutely not."

"Then I'll try to keep that in mind," Tweek yawned, "Though...We don't have to like each other, but if we're going to work together, we probably shouldn't fight."

"I was thinking the same thing."


	12. Chapter 11

Craig awoke to the sunrise on his face through the treehouse. As he sat up, the boards squeaked loudly. He quickly looked to Tweek to see if the noise had woken him, but he remained asleep with his arm wrapped around his head, shielding him from the growing sunlight.

Where they were staying was honestly less of a treehouse and more like a sort of platform. Suddenly he wondered if it was used for sniping arrows. He wasn't sure why Barbarians would need that, Tweek showcased that he was fine shooting from the ground, not to mention that they were far enough off the main path that it wouldn't be the most obvious place to wait for passersby, be it animals or humanoids.

He stretched and yawned-though he tried to do so quietly enough to not wake Tweek. He wasn't sure _why_ he was avoiding waking him. Maybe he _should_ wake him so they could get an early start on the day. Yet for some reason, he decided to let the barbarian sleep while he collected his thoughts.

" _Why are you so rude?"_

Tweek's words from yesterday echoed in his mind.

Craig knew that he was a rude person. People said it to him all the time. Clyde would say it with a laugh, Red to tease him and get on his nerves, Bebe with annoyance, Wendy with malice. To him, said what he thought and didn't care if others liked him. It wasn't a trait he was proud of or anything, but at the same time he didn't really care or actively try to change it. In fact, if he was going to be honest with himself, part of him actively didn't _want_ people to like him.

Well, it wasn't exactly like he wanted to be _hated_. He didn't set out trying to think of ways for people to despise him. That said, he never went out of his way to try to make people _like_ him either. Even with Clyde. Clyde and him had been through so much and knew each other so well, that he didn't _have_ to do anything for him to like him-he could be unapologetically himself.

Clyde was always enough for him. Even if he wasn't enough for Clyde. Clyde had Bebe, he had his other friends...but that was fine. Clyde was a lot more social of a person, he wanted a lot of human interaction. Craig didn't.

He didn't really want to think about the reasons _why_ he was the way he was. He always told himself that as a thief with no loyalties, that was how he _should_ be. Yet deep down he knew he was that way before he became one and would have been this way regardless. And so, sometimes he would fall down that rabbit hole and question these things about himself, but he'd quickly try to pull himself out of it and think of something else. He just wasn't a people person, he figured. That's fine. Not everyone _has_ to be.

Before long he heard a yawn. Tweek had just woken up.

"Morning," Craig nodded towards him.

"Good morning," Tweek returned the greeting, his voice noticeably still tired, "How long have you been up?"

"A little while," he shrugged, "I'm usually an early riser. When I was younger, my family always got up before sunrise. In the past few years, I've been sleeping in more often with the curtains closed, but I can't sleep with sunlight in my face."

"Is that normal in Kupa?"

"In my village it was," he answered, "Though not in the city. A lot of the rich stay up until daybreak partying like assholes and wake up at noon. Your people?"

"I guess it depends," Tweek leaned back, trying hard to think about an answer, "What someone's job is, personal preference. We have parties and festivals that go late into the night, so I guess in those situations people will wake up late in the day."

"You have festivals?"

"I thought you didn't want stories or rambling," Tweek raised an eyebrow.

Craig frowned. "Forget I asked, then."

"We do," Tweek childishly giggled, "For different parts of the year-winter festivals, fall festivals, things like that. Others for activities like music or games. Also, of course, for events celebrating occasions and events that happened long ago. Some variations or tribe specific ones...depending."

"I wouldn't have thought."

"Kupa is the same, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said, "My favorite was the spring equinox. My mom always made us snacks with honey."

"I'm confused. You said you were a street kid before, didn't you?"

Craig was caught off guard. He did admit that, didn't he? Now he was subtly giving details of her serf life with his family. He was quickly sharing far too much with this guy.

"I don't really like talking about my past," Craig told him. An honest answer.

"Alright," Tweek stood up, rummaging through his things for the fruit he picked yesterday, "Then I won't ask. Breakfast now?"

They continued their trek through the seemingly endless forest. As Tweek had warned, there were more and more dangerous creatures that they came across that the barbarian would promptly deal with. It made Craig feel a bit useless-he was always considered good at protecting himself and had just received vigorous training to improve, yet there this lean blond guy would already handle before he even realized there was something _to_ handle.

What they didn't ever deal with, Craig suddenly realized, was other Barbarians.

"Where are all of your people?" he found himself asking, "I was warned that you guys are everywhere and watch over your roads. Kind of like you but, you know, not _just_ you."

"Usually there would be," Tweek shrugged, "Now is just special. You're lucky, I guess."

"What do you mean?"

"We were talking about festivals this morning," Tweek answered. He paused for a moment before continuing, "Right now is one of our most important ones. Everyone is busy deep in the woods celebrating it. It's against tradition to do any other of our duties right now."

"Except for you, I take it?"

"Like I said, I'm away from my tribe," he told him, his voice slightly melancholy, "I'm at the age where I have to prove myself. I'm not a part of any festivals or traditions until I do so. This festival was always my favorite, so I do miss it."

"They had you do this right before then?" Craig asked, "That's pretty shitty."

"I've been away for a while."

"Define awhile."

"Not quite a year."

Craig nearly coughed. " _A year_? Why didn't you just set up a trap to kill an ogre or something and call it a day?"

Tweek laughed, "Well, that's the sort of thing a lot of us do. I would too, probably, but...the standards are, well... _different_ for me I guess."

"I guess it's no wonder why you wanted to follow me, I guess," Craig found himself thinking out loud, "I'd go fucking crazy if I had to wander this hellforest alone for a year. You parents must be real assholes to put that sorta pressure on you."

"It's not their fault," Tweek insisted, "But...this morning you said you didn't want to talk about certain things. Well, this is the sort of thing _I_ don't want to talk about."

"Fair enough," he shrugged, "It doesn't really matter to me."

"Speaking of things not to talk about," Tweek quickly changed the subject, "I really shouldn't have told you about the festival. Like you said, outsiders expect us to be on the lookout at all times. If everyone knew when our festivals were, when we're most vulnerable-"

"Believe me, I'm not the sort of person who would have bothered to mention it anyway."

"Right," Tweek frowned.

It was then another one of those obnoxious pixies flew around them. Craig quickly swatted one as soon as it came near his face. It fell to the ground a few feet away.

"Feldspar!" Tweek scolded quite angrily, running over to the fallen pixie.

"What?" Craig shrugged, "A pest flies into my face, I'm going to swat it."

"Pixies aren't _pests_!" Tweek glared at him as he kneeled down very carefully and gently picked up the pixie in his hands, "I can't believe you just-look she's hurt!"

It was definitely an unexpected sentiment for him to hear from a barbarian. Even one like Tweek, despite learning that many of his misconceptions of them were wrong. He saw Tweek kill dangerous creatures without hesitation. It was still true that barbarians killed trespassers without a second thought, Tweek himself saying upon their first meeting that he would have been justified to do so.

"For such a warlike, brutal race, I can't say I expected you to care," he spoke a summary of his thoughts.

"We don't senselessly kill for the sake of it. We have honor, you know," Tweek still glared as he stood up with the pixie resting in his palm, "We try to _protect_ this forest, especially those weaker than us. Pixies are beautiful, peaceful creatures who call this place home as well. Who are you, an outsider, to come into their home and hurt them?"

That was a good point, Craig had to admit. He didn't have an answer, so he decided to remain silent.

Tweek carefully walked over to the edge of the path, pixie still in hand. With his other hand, he carefully helped the pixie stand up on his palm and very lightly brushed off some of the dirt on her with his finger. After a few moments, the pixie fluttered her wings. She flew up to Tweek's face and kissed his nose before flying off deep into the forest.

"She's lucky," Tweek told Craig as he started to continue their trek down the path, "She was mostly just in shock. She could have bent a wing or broken her neck."

"Okay, fine, I'm sorry. I won't swat at them anymore."

"You know," Tweek said after a few moments of silence between them, "You keep calling this place a _'hellforest'_. You...aren't _wrong_ that it can be incredibly dangerous and scary. It's full of all sorts of things that can kill you, tainted with magic that isn't always...pure. It isn't exactly the easiest place for people to live in and to be honest maybe us barbarians _are_ crazy for doing it." He paused once more.

"Yeah?" Craig prompted him.

"But it isn't _just_ all those things," Tweek finally continued, "If you actually stopped only viewing it as something dangerous and terrible, I think you could appreciate all the beauty here as well. I have never left this forest, but I know Kupa Keep bans all magic, so...even if you find things like pixies annoying, don't our, I don't know, magical _plants_ interest you? There is so much there is to offer that you seem to completely ignore."

"I'm trying to survive a mission, not go on some self-discovering nature hike," Craig rolled his eyes.

Tweek frowned. "You have such a black and white way of thinking, you know."

"What do you mean?" Craig asked. That was the first time a person used that specific sentence to describe him. He got called _stubborn_ a lot not to mention being _too pragmatic_ (which was a concept that never made sense to him), but not 'black and white'.

It's true, he did previously think of a lot of things in a black and white way. He thought Barbarians were all ugly brutes. He still thinks elves are awful. He hates nobility. Okay, maybe he _did_ have a black and white way of thinking.

He thought back to that bard he met at Red's tavern. He spoke of how Barbarians weren't blindly murdering brutes but instead nice people, going against everything he had learned about them. He told Craig to question everything he thought he knew about Zaron. Though he was _also_ a spy who got Red killed. It's possible he was speaking on experience, but he felt it was more likely he was making things up. He decided not to take anything that bard said seriously.

He looked around once more. He guessed the flora here _was_ pretty. But he still didn't see how it would be prudent for him to stop and smell the glowing roses instead of keeping watch of his step. For all he knew, the glow could be a sign of poison. It was easy enough for Tweek that probably knew what everything was and was _used_ to this way of living. Hell, he toughed it out on his own for nearly a year. He had no right to judge him for keeping on guard over letting himself become distracted.

So for that reason, he decided to dismiss what Tweek had told him.

That whole dealing did, however, led them back to journeying on in near total silence. Even when they stopped for a lunch break of food Craig had brought with him, they only had a minimal exchange of the angry silence like yesterday, but instead like that which they agreed upon the night before. They didn't have to like each other, they probably were far too incompatible of people with their own personal worldviews _to_ like each other. Perhaps not speaking to avoid saying something that would irritate the other would be the best course of action.

"Where are we going to sleep tonight?" Craig finally broke the silence as he noticed it was beginning to get dark, "You seem to always know a place."

"I don't know of any shelter all the way out here," Tweek admitted, "This isn't really a part of the forest I know that well."

"So we'll camp the old fashioned way?" he asked.

"Well...there's a pond not far from here," he added, "It should be safe and can also get us water. Maybe fish, too, if we can catch some."

"Alright."

And so, about a half an hour later Tweek led them off the main path and down to a pond, just like Craig expected. What he _didn't_ expect was just how this pond would look. Or any of the land surrounding it, for that matter.

For one, it wasn't like any riverbank he'd ever seen-ones he was used to were just a little bit of cleared out land and generally quite rocky. This was a full on meadow, as if he had left the forest entirely. Unlike the darkness of the forest with glowing dark blue flowers and such this, even in the dimming daylight, was very bright and colorful. It was full of pinks and purples and other pastel colors all around. The pond itself too looked nothing like a body of water he had ever seen. It was a weird hodgepodge of different shades of pinks, blues, purples, and so on. All around, dozens and dozens of pixies of various color glows flew about.

"I like to come here," Tweek told him, "But it's a little out of the way, so I don't often."

"It's sure...something," Craig said, a loss for words.

"It's said the fairies and their unicorns once lived here," Tweek explained, "But the fairies left the forest generations ago, so it's been taken over by the pixies."

"My sister would love this place," Craig found himself blurting out without thinking. Well, it was true. It was the stereotype of every little girl's dream. Even someone as stubborn as Craig had to admit that it was absolutely beautiful. Still, he immediately regretted bringing his sister up.

"You have a sister?" Tweek asked. That was entirely why Craig regretted blurting it out.

He considered pulling the I-don't-want-to-talk-about-it card. That would be the smartest option, strategically speaking, and also would prevent him from opening that can of emotional worms he tried so hard to suppress. The last thing he wanted was to get emotional in front of this guy.

" _Had_ ," he found himself admitting instead.

"Oh," Tweek's expression fell, "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You didn't know," Craig shrugged. He quickly tried to change the subject, "You said there _were_ fairies and unicorns here? What made them leave?"

"It's not known," Tweek shrugged, "It's more of a legend anyway."

"I guess Kupa has a magical creature you don't then," Craig commented, "The princess had a unicorn. I've never seen it, though."

"They aren't banned like the other magical creatures?" Tweek's eyes widened.

"They'd be banned anywhere else, but if you're royalty I guess rules don't matter. There's a reason why I hate nobility, especially royals."

"I see," Tweek said, frowning.

"Hey, that water-are you sure it's okay to drink? I don't want to get sick on some weird rainbow water."

"Perfectly," Tweek's troubled expression turned into a smile, "It's magic infused, they say it's even _better_ for you."

They then set out to prepare for the night. As Tweek said, the water didn't instantly poison Craig. It was weirdly sweet, as though it wasn't entirely water at all. They were also able to catch a few of the weird (and also strangely sweet) rainbow-y fish in the pond and set up a little campfire to cook them. Craig trusted Tweek that they were safe here.

"We should reach the edge of the forest in less than half a day," Tweek told him after they finished their dinner.

"Oh thank God," Craig laid back in the soft grass in relief.

"That means the start of the Neunbruck Kingdom," he added.

"That's right," Craig sat up, "This will be your first time leaving the forest, isn't it?"

Tweek didn't speak, his mouth slightly agape, barely visible in the light of the fire.

"What?" Craig raised an eyebrow, slightly annoyed, "That's what you said, isn't it?"

"So you aren't going to fight me going with you?"

"I thought we agreed to that already."

"You only specified to the edge of the forest."

"I guess I thought it was implied," Craig thought about it, "Why, are you getting second thoughts?"

"No!" Tweek frowned, "I was planning on going no matter what. I just was hoping to not fight you over it."

"Well you don't have to anymore, I guess."

"Good."

"Good," Craig agreed.

"But you know," Tweek suddenly added, "Neunbruck doesn't really like Barbarians. This time _you're_ going to have to be the one to lead and deal with things."

"Why don't you just say you're from Kupa Keep, too?" Craig offered, laying back down on the grass. He was getting sleepy fast. They didn't have any sort of tent, but the sky was clear enough and it wasn't cold, so it should be fine sleeping out in the open. Tweek insisted that predators don't come here.

"Excuse me?" Tweek answered just as he was about to try to sleep.

"Just wipe off that paint or whatever and I'm sure they'd be none the wiser," he yawned, shutting his eyes.

"That's-I can't just do that!" Tweek sounded greatly offended, "Going around without it would be against every tradition, every-"

"I thought you said while you were on this proving yourself thing you weren't a part of that," his voice even more tired.

Tweek groaned unintelligibly, but Craig found himself too tired to open his eyes once more before falling asleep to the pops of the dwindling fire.

The next morning, Tweek woke before Craig did. The fire had long since died out and was instead a pile of black ash, though Tweek had covered it with some flowers and stones to make it less of an eyesore in the beautiful meadow. Craig didn't feel guilty-he knew from his formative days living a farmer's life from his father that fire often helped the ground become more fertile. Still, that level of caring was something even after only a few days of knowing Tweek he had come to expect.

What he _didn't_ expect was for Tweek to look entirely different.

Well, to be fair, maybe saying _entirely_ different was an overstatement. He still had the same clothes on, complete with no shirt. His hair was still messy, his body still not clean by Craig's standards. He was still the same height, had the same piercing blue eyes, and lean muscle to him.

Still, he looked very different to Craig without that dark body paint snaking around him. Sure there were still specks of it here and there and his skin was rubbed raw and red from where he presumably scrubbed and scrubbed. But it was...odd.

"Could I pass as someone from Kupa now?" he asked.

"Probably not if you were _in_ Kupa," Craig answered honestly, "But without that paint you wouldn't pass for a Barbarian, either. We can't do anything about your accent, but we should probably get you a shirt or something."

"No shirts," Tweek demanded, "I already wiped off the paint. I'm not going to wear those torture devices."

"Torture device?" Craig raised an eyebrow, "What the hell do you guys do in winter when it's cold?"

"Barbarians are better at regulating body temperature," Tweek said with full conviction.

"That doesn't make any sense, but okay," Craig doubted, but decided to allow it without further question. He looked around the meadow once more. It was even beautiful in the full daylight. "You know, if it's only going to take half a day anyway we might as well take our time leaving."

"You like it here?" Tweek asked.

"Better than the rest of the forest," he shrugged. He did like it, but he had always been weird about admitting that sort of thing.

"I like it, too," Tweek replied with a somewhat mischievous grin. Craig scowled.

From there, Tweek caught a few more fish throwing his arrows like spears while he told Craig what sort of berries in the bushes were safe to pick for food. Pixies were everywhere flying about, some grabbing at his clothes while he tried to search for the berry bushes, but he decided to heed Tweek's words and not swat at them but instead ignore them. He took off his hat and decided to use that to carry them. Before long, he noticed a handful of pixies using all their might to pull the berries off of the bush as well, their arms barely wrapping around them and the weight of them almost too much for them to keep their flight. Cheerfully, they carefully plopped the berries into Craig's hat.

Maybe they weren't so bad, afterall.

When his hat was full, he returned to where they had slept, many of the pixies cheerfully following him back. Tweek hadn't set up another fire, but insisted merely diced them up and claimed that the type of fish he got was safe to eat raw as long as it was fresh. It seemed like a gross concept to Craig, but he wasn't going to fight someone clearly more knowledgeable than him. Cautiously he took a bite of the fish. It was pretty good. The berries were also quite good.

Seeing the pixies still giggling about him, he pulled apart some of the fish and smashed a berry into smaller pieces. He held it up in his fingers and offered it up to the pixies. They hesitated, but eventually one flew forward and grabbed some, the others soon following suit. Tweek raised an eyebrow.

"They decided to help me pick berries, so it's only fair," Craig explained. Tweek smiled but gave no comment.

He looked at Tweek closely as he ate. He was sure a weird one. They had only known each other for a few days now, but he already got less on his nerves than before. Sure, he still didn't _like_ him, but he didn't get irritated just thinking about him anymore.

His usefulness aside, Craig was aware that bringing him along did endanger the mission. He had no idea how he was going to explain this next check in he'd give-which he hadn't given one since he first entered the forest. He knew that the recommended order would probably be to just kill him, but Craig never once truly considered that option. In that case, the order would likely be to just get rid of him. He _could_ betray him at Neunbruck, and to be honest pragmatically speaking he probably _should_. Neubruck was pretty peaceful, so it would be very unlikely that they'd kill him and would at most just arrest him before returning him to the forest.

But for some reason, that hadn't been what he planned on doing. This guy saved his life a number of times in the past couple days, betraying him felt wrong. Sure, he betrayed people for a living before and had no qualms about betrayal as general concept, but usually that was about _objects_ not quite literally someone who saved his life.

He also figured he _would_ be of use once he reached elven territory. He _could_ help him get his foot in the door. In that way, keeping on with him _would_ be pragmatic.

He was going to have to betray him eventually, though. He wasn't going to the High Elf Kingdom for peace. He was going there for thievery, to steal the stick. Not only that, but he was going to be giving it to essentially a dictator in order to have power over all of Zaron. Tweek probably wasn't going to like that.

"I think we should get going," Tweek called out, gathering his things.

Well, he'd cross that bridge when he'd come to it.


	13. Chapter 12

It wasn't a long walk to the edge of the forest. It was just a few hours from the little meadow that they stayed at the night before. Thankfully, the remainder of the journey through the forest was quite uneventful-nothing in particular jumping out and trying to kill them. Tweek was very quiet, but not out of anger like he had been before. Instead, there seemed to be a level of melancholy, of apprehension.

"Are you scared?" Craig asked out of the blue.

"I'm not sure if I'd say _scared_ ," Tweek frowned, blush spreading on his cheeks. The way he got flushed so easily was far more noticeable without the lines of paint across his face. It was still weird to see him without all that paint all over him.

Was it shallow of Craig to think he looked so much better without the body paint? Was it disrespectful of his culture? Craig thought it was weird of him to ponder this, but he wasn't sure what aspect of it was weirder-that he liked how he looked more, or that he seemed to care about his cultural feelings?

He didn't want to keep thinking about this.

"Well, it's your first time leaving this place, isn't it?" Craig said to him in a soft, kind tone that surprised himself.

"It is."

"Then it's normal to be worried," Craig shrugged, "I don't like to admit it to myself, but I think if I'm being honest with myself, I was worried leaving Kupa for the first time."

Why was he being so nice to him? Why would he say something like that? But on the other hand, why was it such an odd feeling for him to be nice to someone? Normal people are nice and don't get all worked up about it. Yet even with Clyde, although he knew that Clyde knew that he cared, he usually found himself insulting him more than anything. They weren't _true_ insults, they were a sign of friendship...even if he _also_ insulted people he hated in similar ways. It was just... _different_.

"Are _you_ alright?" Tweek asked, genuine concern in his voice. Craig realized he was scowling to himself. He instantly felt embarrassment rise up to his cheeks.

"Of course."

Maybe it was better to walk in silence after all. It's not like they were friends or anything. It's not like they _could_ become friends. Afterall, Tweek may not know it yet, but they were destined to be enemies before all was said and done. They would work together as their goals currently overlap, but eventually Craig would do what he has to to.

Tweek stopped suddenly, immediately interrupting Craig's thoughts.

"What's going on?" Craig asked.

"We're near the edge of the forest," Tweek said, his expression unreadable.

"Good."

"I've never gone further than this point," he added with a swallow.

"Well, now you will," Craig shrugged, continuing to walk. It wasn't out of carelessness to Tweek, but rather he felt that such nonchalantness would snap him out of it and make him continue. It seemed to work, Tweek merely nodding and catching up to him mere moments later.

"Maybe I should have worn a shirt," Tweek said under his breath.

Craig scowled, "I told you that earlier! It's too late _now_."

"I know," he frowned ashamedly, "I'm sorry."

"Whatever," he sighed, still annoyed.

At the end of the path, they could see light seeping through the trees. After so many days in this thick forest, Craig almost forgot how much sunlight was perpetually blocked out by the flora here. Not that he was the type who longed for sunny days in winter, (if anything, the shadows always helped him work,) but he was grateful to leave this place. Thankfully it was still early summer, meaning passing the mountain range would be quite easy, given that they weren't covered in blizzards.

"I'm not sure if they told you," Tweek piped in suddenly as if reading his thoughts, "But...they say time happens differently in this forest works a little differently from the rest of Zaron due to the...strange magical properties. So the number of days you think have passed might not match up to the outside world."

"Excuse me?!" Craig stopped in his tracks, "You mean to tell me when we exit this place we might find out that a hundred years passed or something?"

"Oh no, nothing that extreme," Tweek insisted, "Though it is pretty unpredictable. Sometimes people spend weeks here only to find out that a few days have passed...sometimes the reverse. I think not enough outsiders traverse it and those who do often think they're going crazy, so it doesn't surprise me that people haven't formally realized it. We Barbarians certainly don't mention it to outsiders."

"Great," Craig rolled his eyes. He found it unlikely that Wendy or the Grand Wizard didn't know, they probably intentionally left that tidbit out to prevent him from flaking out on them. Not that he would have, of course. He hadn't tried contacting anyone since he first entered the forest, before because he wanted to remain silent and stealthy as possible, and later because he didn't know what to do about...the whole Tweek situation, so there really was no telling.

"Also…" Tweek hesitated, "Neunbruck has a _'kill on sight_ ' policy with Barbarians."

Craig stopped in his tracks again, gripping his temple with frustration. "Why didn't you say so before?" he scolded.

"Hey, it's no different from Kupa's policy...or our policy towards people from Kupa," Tweek pointed out defensively.

"I guess," Craig allowed with a huff. They walked in silence towards the bright light at the end of the path. After thinking it over he added, "Well, I guess you gotta just stick by me and pretend you're from Kupa. Maybe don't talk so much."

"Right," Tweek agreed, "And we're almost there now."

They walked in awkward silence for the remaining minutes on the path. When they finally approached the end, Craig felt a gust of cool breeze. _Too cold._

As he knew to expect, the border between the forest and the official lands of Neunbruck Kingdom had guards. They didn't wear the iron cast armor of the knights of Kupa, however, but instead were adorned in heavy fur uniforms that he knew were typical of the small mountain kingdom. Unlike Tweek for the Barbarians the large, burly guards were exactly as he imagined.

As the breeze had made him suspect, it was really chilly. Not full on winter freezing or anything, but it was immediately clear to Craig that all of summer had passed and possibly a large part of autumn. He sighed annoyedly.

Almost immediately, the Neunbruck guard asked him an accusatory question in his native language, his thick eyebrow raised in skepticism. Or at least that's what he presumed, he didn't know their language at all. Since they were allied kingdoms, it wasn't a priority for him to study any of it, unlike the Elven language.

"Um…" he tried to recall what he was told to say when he reached this land, "I'm from Kupa. Do you understand me?"

"Kupa?" he asked in his thick, gruff accent.

"Yes, on behalf of the Grand Wizard." He quickly reached into his pockets for his official letter and handed it over, though he was unsure that the man could understand. Thankfully, he also had another paper written specifically for Neunbruck in their language.

"Are you Feldspar?" he asked, examining the letter carefully. The overall mission report, not just the one for Neunbruck specifically. That was good, if he could read it it meant they could communicate easily.

"Yeah," he answered. He then figured perhaps he should try to speak more formally for once. He would risk his own life speaking back rudely to Kupa authority plenty of times, but he had less reason to hate these folks. Not to mention, there was more than just his _own_ neck on the line. "We were hoping that, due to our kingdoms' mutual alliance, we could stay here for a few days?"

"We?" he asked, "Who is he? This letter here only mentions you."

"He wasn't originally going to come with me, but it was decided last minute. We didn't have time to change the official documents, but due to our open border policy between our kingdoms, we were confident it wouldn't be an issue," he said without missing a beat. All Craig's years of lying and trickery needed to pay off for something, didn't they?

"Why are you dressed like that? Where's your shirt?" he asked Tweek, narrowing his eyes and leaning in closer to him. Tweek trembled, but thankfully heeded Craig's earlier advice in keeping his mouth shut.

"You guard this forest, you know how it is sometimes," Craig shrugged nonchalantly.

"Alright," he straightened back up with a very loud and hearty laugh that threw both of them off. "Our capital is down the road at the base of the mountain, a few hours by foot. You are welcome to stay as long as you want. We know it must not have been easy going through that forest."

"Thank you sir," Craig bowed slightly, an action he absolutely hated doing. He quickly grabbed Tweek by the arm to pull him along as they continued down the path.

The fresh, cool air did feel nice. Even if it was chilly, the sun was still out and bright, providing some warmth. The trees were all evergreen, making it hard to figure out how late in autumn it was. Maybe he should have asked. Oh well, he could do that once they made it to the capital.

Neunbruck was far smaller than Kupa, just making up the land between the forest and the steep mountain range. The capital was really only said to be a large village, any other settlements being small farm communities. Mostly livestock for fur and meat, though they also grew crops as well. Plus they were known for being skilled hunters of _non_ livestock prey. He wasn't sure if they were of a serf system like in Kupa-it was conveniently never brought up whenever there was discussions about the allied kingdom. At this point in his journey, he wouldn't be surprised either way.

Although the guard said at the base of the "mountain" there were hundreds of mountains within the mountain range. If the forest wasn't enough of a barrier, the mountains acted as a strict natural one between human and non human majority lands. They would be difficult for them to traverse.

"They're beautiful," Tweek marveled.

"I guess they are," Craig looked up at them. Mountains were just as much a new thing to Craig as they were to Tweek, coming from the flat plains of Kupa. They were impressive, with just how high into the sky they seemed to reach, how unnaturally jagged they seemed-as though a giant had run its fingernails down the sides of them. He also figured they were a lot less dangerous to admire than anything in the forest. He was in safe territory now. Still, he found himself frowning and added, "I'm more concerned over how they're already covered in so much snow."

"Well, they're so tall...Aren't they always?" Tweek asked.

"I mean sure, some," he answered, "But don't you feel how cold it is? It's just going to get worse. If it gets too cold, it won't be safe for us to go until springtime." He didn't even want to think about how neither of them had ever likely climbed a mountain before, making them both inexperienced.

"It's a shame dwarves don't let anyone else into their territory anymore," Tweek sighed.

Craig had to agree. Dwarves lived within the mountains themselves, with an extensive tunnel system said to connect every single mountain together. If they could just cut _through_ the mountains, they would have a lot easier time. Weather wouldn't even be an issue. Still, although dwarves still had decent diplomatic relations with non-dwarven kingdom they feared the tension between the humans and elves. For that reason, they no longer allowed either species enter their territory and allow passage through the mountains. It did make sense to Craig-they didn't want their home to be caught up in someone else's issue and for their land to be used as a war path. They wanted to remain neutral-which was their right, he supposed.

"Yeah, but that's obviously not happening," he ended up answering.

"Well, if things go our way and we get peace, perhaps on the way back we can!" Tweek smiled rather brightly.

"Yeah...maybe."

Craig rather liked the walk through Neunbruck. It was somewhat hillous, with the wide path itself elevated by a few dozen feet on a sort of ridge. The farmlands he heard about could be seen everyone once in a while to either side in valleys below. There were _so_ many cows about. He grew up on a farm with them, of course, but in his village there would only be perhaps one or two a family at most. Here there were _hundreds_ grazing free and only occasionally would he see a farmer lounging about near them. There were also other animals he recognized, like goats and sheep, though there were some he did not.

They passed the few tiny villages as well. The path would diverge into smaller ones leading to the small villages out in the distance. They were tiny and the two of them decided not to diverge from the main path to visit them, but he could tell that their houses were much more well put together than his small thachet one he grew up in. Even from a distance he could tell that they looked...peaceful. They were almost definitely not a serfdom, he decided.

Still...it was a kingdom. There was a system of hierarchy. He wasn't foolish enough to believe that this place didn't have issues of its own.

"I know Kupa is flat, but other than that, is it similar?" Tweek asked, breaking a silence Craig hadn't even realized they created.

"Not at all," he answered flatly.

"Oh?" Tweek asked, probably to prompt a longer response. Truth be told, Craig found it _hard_ to put into words why. It should be easy enough. The hundreds of evergreen trees that Kupa didn't have any of-much of its flatland having nothing at all. The way the grass seemed so much greener than Kupa's, which often was more of a scorched brownish most of the time, except after a heavy rain or at a very affluent property. The way the air felt so much fresher and cleaner than Kupa's, which always somehow felt dusty.

"Yeah, Kupa is a total shit hole," he ended up answering.

"I see," Tweek responded, realizing he wasn't going to get a more in depth answer. Instead, he tried to go a different conversational route. "You really don't like Kupa, do you?"

"Neither do you."

"But I like my _own_ home," Tweek pointed out.

"Kupa doesn't _feel_ like home," Craig found himself confessing, "Or, it hasn't for a long time, I guess."

"So it once did?"

"Jeez, pushy much?" Craig furrowed his eyebrows.

"I'm just curious," Tweek looked down, a light flustered blush covering his cheeks again, "But you're right-we agreed to not talk about that."

"You're going to wonder forever, so I might as well tell you," Craig groaned, "Fine. The village I grew up in maybe felt like home once. But it got completely destroyed in the elven war, my friend Clyde and I the only survivors."

"I'm so sorry," Tweek's eyes grew wide.

"To be honest it was a shit hole too," Craig looked forward, avoiding Tweek's gaze of pity, "But it was all I knew and all I ever thought I _would_ know, so I liked it enough at the time. Plus it had, you know, my…" he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Your family?"

"Yeah," Craig felt his blood grow cold.

The two continued down the main path for a few more minutes of silence until eventually Tweek cautiously added, "Your friend you just mentioned...is he the one that…?"

"Yeah, he is," Craig admitted, "And he hates Kupa as much as I do. We always talked about leaving Kupa forever, and honestly once I'm done with this mission and save him, the two of us have no intention to stay there."

"I see," Tweek responded in a voice almost as quiet as a whisper, "Everything makes a lot more sense, now. Thank you for telling me."

"Listen," Craig added, his voice still somber, "According to all official records, everyone in our village died. Including us. I've never been able to tell anyone this, but if it got out-"

"Of course I won't tell."

"Thanks."

He didn't know why he told Tweek this. He never told _anyone_ this. They weren't friends. They were going to become enemies, weren't they? But at the same time, once he _could_ use that information against him, Clyde and him would be far away from Kupa anyway.

"Is that it?" Tweek suddenly called out in a change of tone. Craig looked up. Sure enough, where the road curved he saw the settlement, half at the foot of the mountain, half going up it.

"Must be," he replied, his voice devoid of emotion from their previous conversation.

It didn't take long for them to approach it. He wouldn't want to admit it but it was quite... _cute_. Outwardly, he would admit that it was quaint. At the bottom there was a small lake, with water so crystal blue he wouldn't believe it had it not been for the rainbow lake he had seen only this morning. The buildings were far nicer than the ones in Kupa City, or at least in the opinion of his own personal taste. They were typically a cream color with wooden roofs and balconies. Perhaps it was also heightened by the backdrop of the mountains and evergreen trees.

Tweek clearly enjoyed taking it in, Craig could tell. He was practically glowing like a pixie, his mouth slightly hung open.

There were a few guards much like the ones at the edge of the forest, though far more casually standing about than knights did in Kupa City. No moat or gate keeping anyone out. Neunbruck guards were well trained, but they didn't exactly have a formal military. They kept out invaders like the Barbarians, but otherwise they were an incredibly peaceful people.

"We're from Kupa," Craig announced to the guard, hoping he understood his language as well as the guard at the edge of the forest.

"Greetings," he answered with the same gruff accent, "It's been a while since we've had visitors from there! We love visitors, but we know it's a dangerous journey! If it weren't for those damn barbarians, am I right?" Tweek let out a strained laugh. Craig on the other hand, was thrilled at how easy this was going to be.

"Right," Craig agreed, "They scared the hell out of my friend here. We're hoping to stay here a while and recuperate before we cross the mountains."

"Oh my child, you will have to be careful! It is already snowing an awful lot."

"Is it not safe to cross?" he had the same fake diplomatic tone that he had with the previous guard.

"I'm not even going to comment on how it's not a good idea due to the elves on the other side if you were brave enough to make it through the forest," he gave a hearty laugh from the pit of his stomach, "But thankfully for you it's not yet winter. There's currently a blizzard, but it should die down and be a little warmer before we reach the winter's point of no return, if you know what I mean."

"As nice as this place is, we don't want to wait for spring."

"You shouldn't have to, but if you do you're more than welcome to stay," he patted him on the back harshly with his large hand, causing him to fall forward, "Do you have our currency? If not, we have an exchange center up the road."

"We do, thank you," Craig gritted his teeth.

"Then by all means, go on!" he raised his arm to invite him to enter, "We have a couple of nice inns that are more than willing to take you in. Have the best stay here in Neunbruck."

"Thanks," Craig fake smiled. He wasn't sure how people managed to put up such fake diplomatic fronts all day. Doing this for only two conversations was driving him crazy.

It really was quite small. He knew that Kupa City was absolutely massive and that Neunbruck was a small kingdom, but it still was odd that their capital was mainly connected by a single winding road, with much smaller roads branching off. At the very end, at the highest point of the mountain where there village ended, was the castle. It was larger than most of the other buildings, but it wasn't as big as a lot of wealthy noble houses in Kupa City. It was also made of wood.

It was then he became aware of the fact that _everything_ here seemed to be made out of wood. All the buildings, the fences, even the road was made of wooden slats. There were trees lining the street as well as many surrounding the village going up the mountain, so it was clear that wood was something they had plenty of and managed to use without completely destroying their forests like Kupa had many years ago.

There were people on the streets speaking in their native language. Some blatantly gawked at them, while others shyly waved. For some reason, Craig found himself hesitantly waving back.

He greatly ignored the shops along the way, more interested in looking for the inn they could stay at. However, when he saw a handful of laughing young teenagers leaving one, he couldn't help but notice what it was. A magic shop. He didn't even realize that he froze until Tweek whispered in his ear, "Remember, Feldspar, most places don't ban or limit magic. Kupa is the exception, not the rule."

"Right," Craig blinked. He knew that. It was still odd. Neunbruck also was known for having a rather large percentage of magic users. He shouldn't dwell on it.

"I think that's the inn up ahead," Tweek nudged him. Craig looked up. He couldn't read the writing on the sign, but it had a large sign and seemed to be built like many inns he had seen in the past. He merely nodded, and the two continued.

It turned out they were correct. Inside the inn was a husband and wife couple who ran it, who greeted them with open arms. Literally, as they rushed in to hug the two of them as if they were long lost friends.

"Welcome!" the woman said with a heavy accent as she let go after way too long. "What brings you here?"

"We'd like to stay here," Craig answered with a frown, annoyed by the obnoxiously tight embrace that had just happened. He brushed off his clothes, even though he knew they got nothing on him.

"For how long?" the husband answered.

"We're not sure yet," he answered, "We're going to cross the mountains once the weather clears."

"Oh my, some adventures," the woman grinned widely. "You two can stay here as long as you want. But...one room or two?" She raised an eyebrow coyly at the two of them.

Tweek and Craig looked at each other. He certainly didn't want them to get the wrong idea, and to be honest he did much prefer the notion having privacy again. Yet at the same time, sharing one would be half the cost-Craig only had so much of this country's money, and who knew what would happen if they had to stay here a longer than expected period of time. Plus, as annoying of a concept as it was, allowing them to think that Tweek was his... _significant other_ would probably help their cover.

"One," he said. Tweek's face flushed slightly. Craig chose to ignore that.

The husband led them up the stairs to their room. They passed a few other guests-almost all dwarves. It made sense due to the proximity of the two kingdoms, but he couldn't help but find it grossly hypocritical. Though at the same time, he knew they weren't _allowed_ to visit Kupa. They lacked any magic, but it was said that the Grand Wizard simply didn't like their kind enough to allow them to visit for any reason other than diplomatic meetings. For that reason had never seen a dwarf before, though their short, stocky nature and dirty beards matched the illustrations he had seen quite well.

The inn was full of fur and hunting trophies, which Craig found quite tacky. Much like the capital as a whole, everything was wood, with the exception of the dead animals everywhere. It reminded him of the gnomes, but this wood was much darker and less expertly crafted. As though here they used it out of necessity as opposed to honing a skill.

Their room was about what he expected. Quite small, but much better than sharing a room or bed with a ton of strangers like he had to a some. That said, there was only one bed with a large fur pelt blanket draping over it.

"We'll be serving dinner in about an hour," the innkeeper told them as they made themselves acquainted. "It comes with the cost of the room." He only then realized he never even asked how much this was going to cost. Whatever, he'd deal with it later. When the innkeeper left with the door shut behind him and footsteps faded away, Tweek finally spoke.

"I like it here," he said.

"You're forgetting that if you open your mouth you'll be in big trouble," Craig reminded him as he dropped his things on a chair.

"There are very few, if any, human territories that like barbarians," Tweek sighed, sitting on the bed, "And to be fair, we don't like other human territories either. Even though we _are_ human, it's as if we've been accepted as a completely different race-both by ourselves and others."

"But you don't seem that different," Craig added, "And you don't seem to hate every outsider either...just Kupa."

"I don't think I ever really hated everyone from Kupa," Tweek said quietly, looking to the floor.

"Could've fooled me," Craig laughed under his breath.

"Well, I don't hate you."

"You don't _like_ me either," he pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

"I-" Tweek seemed thrown off by his statement. He furrowed his brows in a way that Craig could only guess was a melancholic frustration. Finally, after a few moments of a pause, Tweek's expression faded back to a neutral one. "I guess I just don't think _everyone_ in _any_ group is all bad. Regardless of species or alignment. Except for the Dark Kingdom, I guess."

"Well you're in luck, they've been wiped out since we were toddlers. Unless that weird time bullshit means for you that was last week or something."

"No, that's about right," Tweek chuckled, "But what about you? Do you think I'm wrong to not generalize."

"I don't really care enough about other kingdoms or species to think that deeply about them in general," Craig answered honestly, "Let alone whether or not I'd befriend them. Though, given that the elves killed almost everyone I ever knew, I can't really imagine that I'd ever _like_ one of them."

Tweek frowned. "But then you don't like anyone, do you? Just your friend...the one you're saving."

"Well, it's not like I _hate_ everyone. There are plenty of people I tolerate." he shrugged as he walked over to where the balcony door was. He bet it was a pretty view.

"Do you _tolerate_ me?" Tweek asked from behind him.

"Obviously," Craig found the question annoying. In fact, he tolerated Tweek far more than he did most people. Claiming that he tolerated a lot of people was probably a flat out lie. More like...a small handful. But regardless, that was a worthless question. If he didn't tolerate him, he could have betrayed him the second they left the forest to the Neunbruck guard. He wouldn't have told him his obnoxious life history.

"But Clyde is the only one you really care about."

Craig groaned in annoyance as he lifted the animal skin curtain that shielded the light from outside. Sure enough, the view was beautiful. There was a view of most of the village, with the lake at the bottom, the snow capped mountains in the distance.

Still, Tweek spoke once more. "You and Clyde...is he-are you two-?"

"Are we what?" Craig spun around to look at Tweek, the level of irritation in his voice skyrocketing.

"Sorry...if that's too personal of a question." Craig could tell the apology was sincere. He sighed, it was just Tweek being how he had come to learn he is. Nosy.

"He has a serious girlfriend back in Kupa," Craig tried to shrug nonchalantly, "He's not like me. He _likes_ a lot of people."

"I see," Tweek responded. Craig could have sworn that for a split second he saw his lips turn upwards into a small smile. He immediately dismissed it.


	14. Chapter 13

Craig woke the next morning to the sounds of mountain birds chirping on their balcony. He didn't mind, it was much more peaceful than waking up to the clucking of chickens he was used to any day. The curtain blocked out all the light in their room, but he could tell from the edge of it that there was sunlight peeking through from the other side.

He slept on the floor the previous night, but this arrangement didn't happen without arguments. Craig insisted he didn't need the bed, but Tweek in turn argued that as a Barbarian, he was used to sleeping outside anyway and that Craig should have it. In turn, Craig argued that that meant he should use it even more, that it was a bigger deal for him. After a while, they agreed that they'd alternate between the bed and the floor-and they had every night for the few weeks so far that they had been there. Craig really didn't mind the floor.

To his surprise that morning, Tweek was already awake. He was sitting up on the bed, eyes wide open but not really paying attention to anything in particular. He looked relatively tired still, but like he had been sitting there for a while.

"Mornin'," Craig called out, deciding it was would be weird to just stare at him and not alert him to the fact that he was awake too.

"Oh!" Tweek jumped slightly, becoming more alert. "Good morning, Feldspar," he said cordially as he moved to sit on the side of the bed and stretch. Craig too got up from where he slept on the floor and pulled open the animal skin curtain open. The bright morning sunlight filled the room.

"Think it's any warmer today?" Craig asked. What he really wanted was to get going already, but the people of this village kept insisting that there was still a bad snowstorm up in the middle of the mountains.

"I can't tell."

The two got ready for the day with relatively little to say to each other. When they were finished, they went down for breakfast that the inn provided. There were a handful of other people there, about half of them dwarves. He found out that not only was this a popular place to visit for them, but there were also a small number of dwarves who resided here permanently.

He realized soon after arriving that Neunbruck was very heavy on meat. Meat was always a luxury food that he never had all the time, but in turn he had ended up not being comfortable eating this much of it and wanted more vegetables or grains to balance it out. Tweek seemed to have no problem, but Craig guessed that barbarians probably did eat a lot of weird creatures.

"Did you ever have any stew like this growing up in the Lost Forest, Tweek?" the innkeeper asked with a big grin.

"No," Tweek responded, "Barbarians don't really eat soup or stew. We usually just cook things over a fire and then immediately eat it."

Hiding the fact that Tweek was a Barbarian didn't last long. Thankfully, for all of Tweek's warnings about how much Neunbruck citizens would instantly kill his kind, they didn't take much of an issue.

"It was obvious," one of the guards laughed late the other night at a big dinner holding what seemed like half of the village. It was a very jovial event, and it felt odd just how much everyone who lived in this village seemed to know each other and genuinely care for each other. He didn't even have that level of connection with most of his fellow neighbors in Sundorham.

"I thought you hated his kind," Craig had asked skeptically at the time, "Like...kill on sight sort of hate."

"Nah, we don't _hate_ all of them. It's just more often than not, they're stormin' in trying to kill _us._ We gotta be precautious is all," another man laughed, "No offense to you, Tweek."

"None taken," Tweek gave an embarrassed smile.

"Plus," the innkeeper's wife leaned in as she handed over new rounds of beer, "We all think it's incredibly sweet."

"What is?" Craig found himself confused as he took a sip of the beer.

"You know," she winked, "A kid from Kupa and a barbarian falling in love and running away together."

Craig spit out the drink and coughed up a storm. Tweek likewise was choking, probably having done the same.

He knew they would likely think they were a couple-he had already resigned himself to that. They also weren't wrong, as someone from Kupa he was strictly forbidden from being romantically involved with non Kupa residents. If he fell in love with someone from an allied country like Neunbruck it would cause trouble, let alone a _barbarian_. He thought it was somewhat stupid of himself to not consider that before he let them think that they were romantically involved.

"We really _are_ on a mission," Tweek insisted, somewhat bashfully.

"Yeah, it's not like we're even together," Craig added, wiping the beer he spit out on his face with his cape, "We just let you think we were so that he could blend in with me more."

" _Sure,"_ another woman gave a smirk with a raised eyebrow.

"Trust me. We're not even _friends_ , let alone some star crossed lovers," Craig was getting annoyed, "This is entirely a business thing and once it's over we'll never _see_ each other again. Right Tweek?"

If he _was_ dating Tweek, he'd just admit it. He didn't care about Kupa's rules, so if he really wanted to be with someone from somewhere else he would be. Hell, it wasn't like he was planning on staying in Kupa after this anyway.

Still, Tweek took a moment to respond. Craig turned to him, and saw Tweek staring back at him with incredibly hurt eyes.

"Yeah," he finally answered.

For a few days after that until this very day as they ate breakfast, Tweek had remained melancholic. Craig wasn't an idiot, he knew it was kind of a dick move of him to announce that he didn't like him at all over dinner. He really didn't mean it in a mean way, he thought Tweek agreed. It wasn't like he wanted to _hurt_ him.

"Good news for you two," the innkeeper called out, joining them for breakfast fashionably late, "They say the mountains are clearing up. You can leave as early as tomorrow."

"Oh, but don't you two want to stay forever?" the innkeeper's wife frowned. Her eyes did seem to suddenly turn misty.

"It's incredibly hospitable for you to offer that," Tweek smiled sympathetically, "But we really do have to go as soon as we can."

"Just be careful," the innkeeper warned, "You only have a short window before it'll be blizzards for months. Since you aren't experienced hikers, I do recommend you wait until spring."

"We can't," Craig insisted.

Craig and Tweek were more than stocked up on supplies and were close to running through their money, so it really was good for them to get going. Not that the innkeepers would likely kick them out, given how overly hospitable they were, but it would feel... _wrong._ Craig wondered if that was an odd thought coming from a thief. He thought back to the meat pie lady, another person he absolutely refused to steal from or even take offered freebies. Some people just shouldn't be stolen from. He wondered if she was doing well.

"Since it's our last day," let's walk around, Tweek had offered. Craig would have ordinarily refused, but he decided on a whim to join him. He had seen everything this village had to offer, but it was the first time in a while Tweek actively reached out to him beyond what went with basic universal politeness norms.

They walked down the wooden streets and passed the shops and homes they had both come to be familiar with. It was a cute town and he definitely didn't hate it. Even their royal family seemed less obnoxious, roaming the streets with the everyday folks, inviting them into their palace directly a few times. Tweek went, but Craig declined every time.

Still, as much as he didn't _dislike_ this place, he could tell Tweek loved it. His bright blue eyes sparkled as he took everything in, as if each time they walked down it was the first. The people here loved him, far more than they loved Craig. Tweek didn't even mind when children came and tried to touch his body paint that he reapplied.

"Why _don't_ you stay here?" Craig asked, breaking the silence.

"Excuse me?" Tweek stopped.

"You love it here, they love you...why don't you just, you know. Stay here?"

"What are you talking about? We-We have our mission. I can't," Tweek insisted.

"It's my mission. My _very dangerous_ mission that's only going to get more dangerous. You were never under any obligation to join me," Craig pointed out.

"But I...I have my reasons," Tweek frowned, "It's for a good purpose. Plus, I can't go back to my people until-"

"Fuck them," Craig cut him off, "If you stay here with people who already accept you, you can just forget all about those assholes."

"Feldspar, I can't just _leave_ my people!" Tweek's voice had a twinge of anger.

"Why not? I am."

"It's _different_ with me!" he insisted, voice practically in a yell.

"How so?" Craig asked with a mild laugh.

"I don't get you!" he dodged the question. The anger on Tweek's face seemed to morph into sadness. Well, no. He was still angry, but he definitely sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

"What do you mean?" Craig found himself getting irritated, "I'm just trying to-"

"Get rid of me?!"

"What? No!"

"You don't even _like_ me," Tweek turned away, "That's what you said. I know you didn't always, but I thought over the time we've been together that you…" he trailed off.

"Tweek," Craig let out an exasperated groan, "I _know_ I sounded like an asshole—more than I meant. But I _don't_ dislike you. We've been over this, haven't we?"

"But you don't _like_ me," Tweek said matter of factly, his voice still uneven from the amount of emotion seeping out. It was then it suddenly clicked within Craig that it wasn't just the rude _way_ he said it that upset him.

"You like me," he let out flatly. Tweek didn't respond. That was enough of an answer in and of itself. With a deep breath Craig asked, "Did you think of us as friends or something?"

Tweek hesitated for a moment. "Am I stupid that I thought we were?" he asked quietly, his gaze looking directly down at the wooden street.

"No," Craig said, "Not stupid. But..." He paused for a moment. It really _wasn't_ stupid. Yet at the same time… "You really shouldn't want to be my friend, you know. I'm not exactly a good person."

"Why, because you're a thief?" Tweek looked back up at him with an eyebrow raised in skepticism.

"No. I mean I guess _in part,_ but no."

Tweek grew angry again. "See, you're just saying that to let me down easy."

"What are you even talking about?" Craig realized that he likewise was getting irritated again. Even after weeks together, he still couldn't remotely understand him yet somehow he was very talented at getting under Craig's skin. Much like Red, but somehow in an entirely _different_ way.

"This is going nowhere," Tweek sighed. Craig quietly agreed, angry at how annoyed this confrontation made him, and the two returned to the inn in silence.

For the rest of the day, Tweek decided to take up an offer to visit a local family who offered to host both of them. Craig politely declined.

He tried to tidy up their room as they would be leaving soon and didn't want to put too much on the innkeepers. The two ate dinner at the inn without a single word towards each other except that they both agreed they'd go to bed early to get a head start tomorrow.

Craig had bed that night. It was the most comfortable bed he ever had. Sure, it wasn't a feather mattress of a royal, but it was more than anything he could have ever hoped to afford. Yet at the same time, he found it hard to sleep. Everything about his earlier confrontation with Tweek bothered him.

"I really don't dislike you," he said in the darkness. There was annoyance in his voice, which probably wasn't helping anything. Yet at the same time, not saying anything would probably only make things worse.

"Please just drop this." He could hear Tweek shifting on the floor.

"I know you don't believe me. But what I said earlier about you staying. It's _not_ because I wanted you to go. It's because I thought it would be what's best for you."

"I don't care anymore," Tweek said almost inaudibly.

"I think you deserve to be happy is all." His eyes were getting heavy. He let out a yawn. "I just think someone like you shouldn't get caught up in my bullshit."

Tweek didn't respond. Craig's eyes were too heavy to remain open any longer and soon enough he drifted to sleep.

It was as if the whole village came out to see them off. Craig almost expected some horror story scenario where everyone's eyes would turn black and they would insist they had to stay forever. Yet they didn't. They merely came to say their goodbyes and wish them luck.

He knew they cared a lot more about Tweek than him. Tweek had socialized with them a lot more. He talked about trying to improve relations between their kingdom and the Barbarians when he returned to the Lost Forest eventually. Even though it was a short stay, he took the time to try and learn their language. He only learned a few basic things, but he used it to tell them farewell. Some kids ran up and gave him some flower chains to put around his neck.

Craig really did mean that he should stay. He didn't want to get rid of Tweek. He was too kind for him to hate and even if he didn't make any sense, he knew there wasn't a bad bone in his body. Things were only going to get messy, and he deserved to be safe here. Or hell, return to his family now with the improved relations from _this_ kingdom. Not as impressive, sure, but impressive _enough_. Plus…

"For Feldspar!" a child interrupted his thoughts with her thick accent. She had two braids in her hair and smiled with gaps from missing baby teeth as she held up a flower chain to him.

"Th-Thank you," Craig stammered, taken aback. He crouched down and allowed her to put it around his neck. She giggled and jumped a little before running back to her parents, excitedly saying something to them in her native language. Tweek looked up from the small crowd of kids around him and gave him a big smile. Craig blushed and looked away. Tweek giggled.

"Let's get going already," Craig walked over to gently pull his arm. His face was still red, so he looked straight on as he did so.

"Alright," Tweek went with him. He called out a word that probably meant goodbye as he waved back one last time.

"Are you _really_ not gonna wear a shirt?" Craig asked as he pulled along Tweek's exposed arm.

"I told you," Tweek protested as he finally turned from saying goodbye to watch his step forward on the path, "Barbarians have better temperature regulation due to our diet."

"Does it even snow in the forest?"

"No but—"

"Don't say I didn't warn you when you get frostbite," Craig frowned as he let go of him.

Thankfully, there was a trail through the mountains. It made sense—when relations were better, it was far more common for humans and elves alike to cross borders to visit each other. Much more difficult than the more direct path _through_ the mountains that could have circumvented the Lost Forest entirely...like the elves did when they attacked Sundorham. Still, this was the second quickest path.

The path was relatively flat, going back and forth up the mountain at a steady pace. They were warned that the higher they went, the steeper and less neatly paved the trail would become. People didn't really take the trail nowadays with the state of Zaron as it was, so they couldn't guarantee that the trail would be in a good condition at all.

They were told experienced expedition in summer could pass the ridges of the mountain range to elven territory in about a week. However, as inexperienced travelers in more questionable weather, the estimate was twice that at least. Still, they had about a month until winter fully hit, and they were warned if another winter storm came to take shelter in a cave. They had more than enough food for two months, and Tweek especially was a talented hunter. Besides Tweek's ridiculous insistence on no shirt, they should be fine, Craig figured.

The first night they found a decent campground. They hadn't gone to _too_ much higher, so it wasn't much colder than the base of the mountain. Still, at night it was chilly, and Craig knew he would have to make a fire for Tweek to not freeze. Tweek warmed his hands to the fire, but instantly retracted them when he heard Craig let out a noise of discontent. They hadn't talked much as they hiked that day and they didn't say much before they went to sleep.

The second day went about as well as the first. The trail was still quite easy, staying relatively low between several mountains. Tweek pointed out how lovely it was. The view was spectacular, being between inside of the mountain range, Craig had to admit to himself. There were several other crystal clear lakes like that back in the village, and they unspokenly became their resting points.

"I'm sorry I got mad," Tweek said abruptly as he sat at the edge of the lake to refill his canteen.

"Nah, don't worry about it," Craig said as he sat upon a large boulder at the lake's shore. "I know I come across as an asshole a lot of the time."

"I think I've just lived my life presuming most people secretly hate me," Tweek continued, looking down at the water, "I don't really trust people very well. But for some reason…" He looked up, "I trusted you. From the beginning."

"A terrible decision, probably."

"Maybe," Tweek frowned, looking back at the water, "But I guess that's why I got so angry. No, not angry...hurt."

"I don't really follow."

"I know," Tweek stood up in the ankle deep water, "But that's okay."

"You're pretty weird, you know," Craig raised an eyebrow. There was a twinge of playful humor in his voice.

"So are you," Tweek smiled.

"But do you still trust me?" Craig asked in a more serious tone.

"Yes," Tweek told him. He walked over to sit next to him at the boulder, leaning back to take a break.

"But why?" Craig looked over to him, more wide eyed than he intended.

"I dunno," he answered, looking up to the sky. "Maybe it's because you have a clear purpose, someone to fight for. Maybe it's because you're too brutally honest for your own good. Maybe it's for no logical reason at all..." After a few moments of pondering he looked back to Craig. "But regardless...I do."

"Huh."

"Do you trust me?" Tweek asked.

"Yeah," Craig laughed, "You're too nice. It's hard to believe you think people don't like you, you saw how everyone back there loved you so much."

"It was actually really hard," he confessed, looking to his knees, "I kept thinking that it was all a front and that any minute they were going to kill me for being a barbarian. Or maybe they thought I was going to kill _them_ and were actually afraid of _me_. That's why I tried to be so nice and social, to convince them to let me be."

"They really liked you. I could tell."

"Thanks," Tweek let out a slight melancholic laugh.

"You shouldn't think that way, you know," Craig said standing up and taking a stretch as an indirect insinuation that they should keep going, "I think you're a naturally likable person. You should use that to your advantage."

From day four, the trail was going to get harder. They could no longer venture on the low elevation or through mountain passes—the range was becoming too steep and too thick. They would have to climb up the nearby mountain ridge through the already existing snow and over the summit. Physically, they were about halfway there, but due to the increase in difficulty timewise they still had a long way to go.

They took their time as the steepness increased. Tweek was thankfully pretty good at hiking, which Craig figured made sense in retrospect given how easily he climbed the ladder in the gnome tree. Craig was also not bad from scaling things in his thieving career, he just needed to make sure not to look down.

Eventually they reached the snow. It had already gotten quite a lot colder before they reached it, but once snow got into his boots Craig became incredibly annoyed with this whole mountain hiking thing. He was also worried about Tweek, but he insisted he was fine. Craig still noticed him inch closer and closer to the fire at night.

On the seventh day they hiked a steep, snowy ridge. It was incredibly dangerous, but they figured they didn't have any choice. Tweek almost slipped once, but Craig quickly caught him. Even through Craig's gloves, he could feel that his arm was like ice, not to mention all of his exposed skin was bright red.

They managed to find a small cave to sleep in. It wasn't big enough to safely build a fire. Calling it a cave was incredibly generous—it was more a small hole in the side of the mountain. Still, it was dry and marginally warmer. Given how freezing Tweek felt, he didn't mind them being pressed together—his own body heat kept him from freezing to death at least.

In the morning it was snowing, much to Craig's dismay. They had gotten past the steep ridge and it was by no means snowing hard, so the two decided to continue and hopefully find a bigger, genuinely cave to wait it out if it snowed any harder.

Still, even if the snow wasn't dangerous, they had to be even more careful for avalanches. It also made it even colder, and it made Craig feel cold looking at the snowflakes land on Tweek's exposed skin.

Tweek was shivering. He tried to hide it, but at this point he couldn't. Maybe Tweek _was_ right about Barbarians, Craig was pretty sure most humans would have gotten hypothermia by now. Still, he was turning more and more alarmingly red and his pace was only slowing.

With a sigh, Craig took off his cape and wrapped it around Tweek.

He meant to put it on him and immediately walk on, but Tweek felt like ice, absolutely shivering under his grip. Some shivering was natural, (Craig himself was, too,) but not like this. So instead, Craig kept his arms wrapped around the frozen boy, allowing his own body heat to transfer through. When he finally stopped shivering so aggressively, Craig wordlessly let go and continued on.

He wondered if Tweek was going to protest. Yet he didn't, Craig only heard his footsteps in the snow continue behind him.

In the afternoon they found a very large cave. Even though they could have gone on for several more hours, they decided a bird in the hand was worth more than two in the bush and stopped there for the day.

It was a true cave. It was incredibly large, with many caverns that broke off.

"I wonder if this connects to the dwarven tunnels," Tweek thought out loud.

"Possibly," Craig nodded, "So let's not go _too_ deep. We don't want any trouble with them."

"Right," Tweek agreed.

Still, they went deep enough that they didn't get any of the snowy cold wind and set up a fire. It was much warmer, and he could feel himself defrosting like a melting ice cube. He could only imagine how much better Tweek felt.

When warmed up enough, Tweek slid off the cape that was wrapped around him like a blanket and held it out to Craig. He didn't look at Craig as he did this, and he could swear in the firelight he was blushing again. "Thanks," was all he said.

"Nah, keep it until we're out of these mountains," Craig gently pushed his hand away. "You need it more than me and I didn't really notice much of a difference without it, anyway."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I told you it doesn't make much of a diff—"

"I should have listened to you and prepared."

"Oh," Craig said in realization. He looked over to Tweek to give him disapproving look. "Yeah you should probably apologize for that. I told you countless times."

"I'm sorry," he said again.

"It's whatever," Craig shrugged and leaned back. Even if they didn't walk a full day, he was tired. He wasn't going to go to sleep right away, though. Not tonight.

"You are a good person," Tweek told him.

"Excuse me?" Craig sat back up.

"You said that you weren't. I thought at the time you were just saying that, but now I think you meant it," he clarified. He bit his lip for a moment. "But you're wrong. You're a very good person, Feldspar."

Craig froze. That was probably the first time anyone ever told him that. Perhaps his mother said something to that extent so very long ago, but if she did the memory faded.

He was a bad person, wasn't he? He lied, he stole. He stole precious family heirlooms, he stole an invaluable necklace from a family that was gifted it for condolences for the death of their child son and scammed them into having him steal it back. Hell, that wasn't even in the top ten of bad things he's done, that he'd planned to do. Even people who liked or tolerated him would say what a heartless asshole he was.

"Craig," he said.

"What?" Tweek asked, confused by his one word response.

"My _real_ name," he explained quietly as he let his gaze focus on the orange fire. "It's Craig."

Craig pretended to fall asleep before Tweek. He waited until Tweek's breathing became steady in his sleep and even then still waited a while to make sure.

"Tweek," he said in a very quiet voice. No response. He was definitely asleep. Quietly, as to not make a sound, he sat up.

The fire was dwindling some, so Craig added a little more kindle. The fire abruptly louder crackling noises and Tweek shifted slightly in his sleep. Craig held his breath, but after a few moments he could tell that he was still asleep. He was using Craig's cape as a blanket. He couldn't help but look at him for a few more moments.

Eventually, however, he carefully stood up. Making sure each step was quiet, he walked deeper into the cave. Not too far to get lost and he made sure the glow of the fire was still visible. But far enough that Tweek wouldn't hear.

He had to make contact. He had avoided it for far, far too long. Not since he first entered the Lost Forest what was now weeks ago, far longer even given how time was different there. It was foolish and irresponsible for him to not have earlier.

He used the excuse of not wanting Tweek to hear, but really that was an excuse. There were plenty of times he could have. He just…

It was no use thinking about what stopped him now. He was going to make contact. He would get yelled at, but he would deal with it. Still, he trembled slightly and knew it wasn't from the cold. Heart rate increasing, he laid down the communicator and got down ceremoniously on one knee as he did. Usually he wouldn't. But given how long it had been, he knew he had to.

"Holy shit, you're actually alive!"

"I know," Craig grimaced, unable to look up at the projection.

"Do you have any idea how long it's been?"

"I'm aware," he answered emotionlessly.

"I hope it's because the rumors about the Lost Forest are true and time got fucked up. But even still, that doesn't fucking explain why you didn't contact me while you were still there."

"Yes and no," Craig looked up to the projection, "Yes it was a lot longer. It was about a week for me, but went from early summer to mid fall for you."

"And the no is?"

"I'm currently in the mountains and have been for a week," he looked away again, "I was also in Neunbruck got a few weeks."

"Are you shitting me? After fucking everything, with an important mission like this you just decided to go off the grid for that long? How can I trust you? How do I know you're not just going to fucking take off and run?"

"I'm not going to betray the kingdom! You know my reasons, you know I'm going to do everything to get that stupid fucking stick to your stupid fucking throne," Craig stood up, angry by the insinuation, "Things just got complicated! I can't help that. Shit happens."

"Well then, explain!"

"Well, someone...joined me."

"Who?"

"A barbarian joined me," he explained, heart beating even more profoundly.

"Now I know you're fucking with me. Those uncivilized pieces of shit wouldn't do such a thing."

"That's what I thought too, but he did!" he insisted, "And I know what you're thinking, I should have just killed him when he tried to follow me but...But you know, having someone who knew the hellforest and how to overcome stupid fucking dragons and ogres and shit was useful!"

"Okay, but you're not there anymore. Kill him now."

"No!"

"Excuse me?"

"Barbarians and elves have better relations. I told him the official cover story and he wanted to join in and be a Barbarian representative of the peace talks. I figured he would help me get my foot in the door."

"That's way too risky, especially when you steal the stick from the elves. Kill him."

"No!"

"Why? Did you fall in love with him or something?"

"I...no!" Craig turned red, "Fuck off!"

"Bingo, huh?" the voice laughed, "Well, in that case I won't make you kill him. Maybe you can recruit him. After all, it's only fair given how I always wanted to talk about bringing Bebe with us."

"I didn't fucking fall in love with him, Clyde!"

"Well still...as gross as Barbarians are, you can recruit him. I guess. If you like him that much."

"He would never go for that," Craig answered sullenly, "He's too…"

"Conscionable?"

"Yeah," Craig sat down on a rock on the cave floor, "He's too pure of heart to go along with our plan of stealing the Stick to reinstate the Dark Kingdom and create an eternal darkness and all that." Craig smirked, "It's kind of a big turn off for a lot of guys. Who'd have guessed."

"He's going to hate you. More than if you gave the stick to that piece of shit wizard."

"I know," Craig's smirk faded, "But I still don't want to kill him."

"Maybe you aren't as heartless of a bastard as I thought," Clyde joked. Yet beneath that playfulness, Craig heard some level of skeptical accusation in his tone. Despite his smile, his eyes narrowed.

"Oh I am," Craig shrugged, standing back up, "Anyway, I should go back before he wakes up or something."

"Sure," Clyde chuckled, this time more genuinely, "If he came up now and saw us talking you'd have no _choice_ but to kill him."

"I'm not _that_ careless," Craig retorted with a frown. Still, he went back into his ceremonious kneel, this time with more overdramatically, with playful sarcasm. "You know that...My Lord of Darkness."

"My Dark Mage."

With that, the transmission ended. After a few moments of staying in position he stood back up, collected the communication device, and headed back to the campfire.


	15. Craig

One of Craig's earliest memories was from when he was about three years old. He couldn't say when _exactly_ , but his grandmother was still alive and it was definitely before his mother was pregnant with Tricia. It was springtime and from what he later realized, it was a peaceful, prosperous time for Kupa Keep. The weather was nice, the harvests plentiful, the knights were seen as heroes who protected Sundorham.

The wildflowers were growing beautifully, so his mother sat him down in a patch of them so she and Craig's father could tend to the land. He tugged on her necklace as she placed him down, but she carefully with a laugh removed his tiny hand and told him not to wander off too far. His grandmother usually had watched him and together they tended to the animals, but he later learned that her mind was failing her and she ended up letting him wander into dangerous or reckless situations with the animals too many times. Nearly getting kicked, getting between an angry sow and her babies, stepping on chicken eggs, pulling animal's tails-his parents informed him that from now on he would join them on the field. Craig loved his grandmother, but he didn't mind being near his parents either, _especially_ when there were so many beautiful flowers to play with.

He soon realized that more exciting than the flowers were the butterflies. They were just as colorful and beautiful as the flowers, but they had the added bonus of flying around. He was the only child in the village born the same year, and older children didn't want to play with him. So instead he enjoyed chasing them around as if they were his friends.

He liked chasing them and all, but eventually they always flew away. No matter how hard he tried to catch one they were always just out of reach, eventually flying too far and high and fast-never to be seen again. Although he liked the chase, this was frustrating to the young three-or-so year old. He wasn't going to hurt them, he only wanted to be friends. Why couldn't they understand that?

He saw a particularly beautiful bright blue butterfly resting on a bright yellow flower. He had tried to catch it twice already, but both times, despite sitting _so_ still on the flower, the second he approached it would fly away from him. And you see, he had had it up to _here_ with this butterfly. With a determined frown, he decided on his third attempt he was going to catch it no matter what. He kept low in the grass and flowers, very slowly approaching it. He sat quietly, analyzing it for a few more moments as it slowly fluttered its wings while resting on the flower. He took a deep breath and lunged for it, hands out to catch it.

Of course, it flew away.

Craig was angry. _Why_? Why did they always do that? It flew much higher up than before, and this time he knew it was going to go off, out of his reach forever. Face turning red, he reached up his hand and let out a yell.

" _Stop!"_

It was then that it was as if a heavy stream of wind came directly from the young boy's tiny hand, directly for the butterfly. The shock and pushback nearly caused him to fall backwards, but he managed to stay on his feet only taking a single step backwards. Of course, that was _nothing_ compared to the fact that the butterfly _listened_.

Or maybe it wasn't that it was listening. It was frozen in place where it was in the sky, wings frozen mid flutter. It couldn't be _just_ that it was listening to him, he knew from his mother that it was the flapping of wings that kept birds and insects flying. It must be that stream of wind that came from his hand. He still felt the energy from it, pulsing out of and back into his hand. As if second nature, like another limb. He easily felt that he could control it. Doing so, he bought the butterfly from the sky, closer to him.

Craig's tiny face lit up. He didn't know what he was doing, but it was just so _cool_! He was able to move the butterfly at will around him, never once flying away. Naturally, he wondered if he could do it to other things, but he didn't want to let this butterfly go to test it. Not yet!

"Mama!" the boy called out, green eyes sparkling bright, "Look what I can do!"

Craig's father noticed him first, but his expression was not that of pride for his son. Instead a look of fear. He alerted his wife, and soon she looked upon him too.

"Craig no!" she yelled. She dropped her plow and ran to him with a look of absolute horror. She practically tackled him and in turn, Craig found himself losing control of his new found trick. He could feel the butterfly fly away as his mother hugged him tightly.

"What I do?" Craig asked, eyes wide.

"Craig," she let go to look him directly in the eyes, "You mustn't _ever_ do that. Do you hear me?"

"But I-"

"Listen to me, Craig," she told him, her voice practically shaking as she spoke, "You mustn't _ever_. Do you hear me? No matter what."

"But why?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, "I don't even know what I did."

"Mama, how come there are other babies Patricia's age, but none the same as me?" Craig asked. His baby sister was only a few weeks old, his mother still taking off from the hard labor of the farm to take care of her. Soon, however, his baby sister was going to join other young babies in the village, all cared for by a village elder.

"There _were_ others the same as you," his father told him.

"Thomas," his mother glared at her husband.

"What happened to them?" young Craig asked, "Where'd they all go?"

"It was a very cold winter," his mother tried to explain with motherly tenderness, "Many of them got sick and were too young to recover."

" _All_ of them but me?" Craig asked, eyes widening.

"Well, no, not all," she said sweetly, yet clearly still side eyeing her husband.

"You might as well tell him," his father scowled back at his wife. He then turned to his son and stated matter of factly: "The others were taken away when they were one year old."

"Taken?"

"Because they could do magic," his mother cut in, deciding that it would be better for her to explain it, "Kupa Kingdom...they like to limit the amount of magic in the kingdom. If a child is a serf like us or has too much power...the Kingdom takes them away."

"But...can't _I_ do magic?" Craig asked.

His parents didn't answer.

Craig didn't know for a long time why the couple to the house to the left of his family's always glared at him. They didn't glare at other children, they didn't glare at Tricia. He later learned that they all three children they'd produced had been taken away for their magical ability at one years old. The youngest was born just a few days apart from Craig.

When Tricia had not even lived one year the knights, accompanied by some person in uniform came to their home. As the knights picked up little Tricia, Craig's mother grabbed tightly onto her husband's arm, fighting the urge to cry out from fear. As they all held their breath, the uniformed person said a single word.

"Clear."

His mother broke down crying as she took back her baby. Not out of sadness, but out of relief.

Another family was not so lucky.

"Magical."

A mother screamed as her baby was taken away.

The family that always glared at Craig looked at his family with intense skepticism. Craig would later learn that the skepticism was wrong. Tricia wasn't capable of magic, and if she was their family wouldn't have been able to do anything to save her.

Craig wouldn't be able to describe definitively when exactly things started changing. Probably around when Tricia was beginning to walk wherever she could on her increasingly less wobbly legs. Definitely by the time his grandmother died.

He had listened to his mother's order and didn't do the butterfly trick again. He knew that magic was bad and he couldn't do it. To be fair, he didn't even _mean_ to use it the time that he did. So instead, he just actively avoided doing the very same thing.

He still didn't really understand magic or what it was. Just that it was something bad. It was hard to ban a child from doing something he didn't understand, but at the same time his father insisted to him that those who could use magic had to go through extensive training to be able to use it. It wasn't some easy second nature thing. The butterfly incident was a fluke, but as long as he never _learned_ about magic he would be safe, his father told him. Craig merely nodded, trying to pretend he was mature and actually understood what he was saying.

There were a few times weird things happened, but with no understanding of what magic really he didn't until later in life realize that that's what he did. He thought it was just normal. Like the time when the barley bread he was given was so rock hard that he merely willed it into being softer. Or the time he was annoyed that one of the older children bragged about finding a four leaf clover and yet no matter how hard he searched, he simply couldn't find one. He thought making a three leaf clover grow a fourth leaf was _cheating_...but not _magic_. Or the time he wanted to give his mother a pretty pink flower but could only find white ones. His mother was so impressed by how he was able to find a pink daisy as she had never seen them before. When she complimented him for having a good eye, he didn't want to admit he cheated again.

Then of course, there was the day a bee stung him. It was spring again. A lot of bees were about, and Craig had thought he had done his best to avoid them. Yet there was one that he didn't see that stung the back of his hand. It _hurt_.

It wasn't even on purpose that he caused all the bees within ten yards to spontaneously explode. He was just mad at bees for hurting him. It _wasn't_ on purpose.

et he soon learned that to all the other farmers, including his parents, whether or not he did it on purpose didn't really matter.

Craig tried not to use magic. He really did. He soon came to understand more and more what magic was in order to actively avoid it. Yet he couldn't. Not on purpose-he simply couldn't control it.

"You're going to have to do something about your boy," a villager complained loudly to his parents. It was a late night village meeting lit by a bonfire in the very center of their small community. They had these meetings in secret very late so that the knights or any other Kupa representative wouldn't have knowledge of them occurring. Craig never cared about them and was always put to bed with his sister hours before they went on. After he knew that the topic of the meeting was to be on _him_ however, he couldn't help but exit his tiny house and eavesdrop.

"You don't think we're _trying_?" Craig heard the voice of his own father insist, "We just-"

"Well try harder," another cut in, even more angrily than the previous, "That boy is putting _all_ of us in danger. We should have never let-"

"We understand completely the seriousness of this," Craig's mother cut in. Her voice was calm and dignified, making it harder for him to hear, "We are incredibly grateful for all this village has done for our family. We are incredibly indebted to _all_ of you and we will _never_ be able to repay you."

"Listen," a kinder, calmer voice of reason added. Craig recognized it as the voice of one of the village elders. "We don't hate you folks. We were _glad_ to take you in, Laura. But even if that boy isn't a danger to _us_ he's a danger to _himself_. One of these days he's going to slip up in front of the knights. Say we all agree to feign ignorance, to pretend like it was all some unknown mistake and not something we're in on-the knights are still going to take him away from you. You have to know that at this point, with how he's been...it's only a matter of time."

"Why _not_ just let them take him away?" a voice piped in. He instantly recognized the voice. It was wife of the couple that always glared at him. "We had _all three_ of our children taken away. So many of us have. Why do they get to keep _their_ son at the risk of all of us? What makes _him_ special over ours?"

"You know the answer to that, Mary," the elder told her sternly.

"Yeah because nothing in this goddamn kingdom is fair, is it?" her voice cracked, "This noblewoman gets to keep _her_ baby, but not us?" He could tell that she had begun to cry.

"With the power he's showing, it wouldn't have _mattered_ if I was noble or not!" his mother said defensively yet, as a mother, sympathetic.

"That's not what we're talking about!" the husband joined in, "Don't act like if you were born a serf like us anyone would have felt sympathy or believed your story! The only reason that kid is alive is because you fucking nobles are _always_ privileged, _always_ valued over everyone else!"

"Wanna say that again to my face?" Craig heard his dad practically growl. Craig could hear the meeting erupt into chaos. He couldn't even distinguish individual voices anymore.

Craig couldn't take it anymore. He went back to their little home and crawled into bed with little Tricia, pulling the blanket over his ears so he couldn't hear any more of the commotion.

They kept him away from knights when possible. He was told to go inside when they passed through the village, to keep still if ever they came close to him. He was firmly warned by his parents-if he slipped up and used magic they would take him away.

"Are knights bad?" Craig asked.

"No of course not," his mother insisted, "They want what's best for us. They just...they don't understand is all."

"What don't they understand?" he tilted his head.

She gave him a sigh and bent down to his level. "Craig, you have a great power. A power you should never be ashamed of."

"But you always said I should never use it," he argued, "All the other kids who have it are taken away!"

"You see the thing is, Craig..." she trailed off, thinking of the best way to carefully phrase it, "As great as it is, it's also incredibly dangerous. You can do great things with magic, but you could also do terrible things as well. To the kingdom, they only see what terrible things _could_ be done, and want to protect people _with_ power from _abusing_ it."

"But if I told them that I would only use it for good...would that be okay?"

"Craig...First of all, none of that matters when you can't control it."

"I _can_ control it," he announced to Tricia. Her toddler speech was still pretty incomprehensible and she was far more interested in pulling up grass, so she didn't respond. He frowned, but continued on. "I'm not supposed to use magic cuz they said I can't control it. But if I _can_ control it and only use it for good then everything will be okay." Tricia ate a blade of the grass.

Craig frowned at his apathetic sister and focused on a flower. Spring was ending and turning into the heat of summer, so the beautiful spring flowers were slowly withering away. He focused on one next to his sister. Outreaching his hand, he focused heavily on the flower. Slowly but surely, the brown crust at the edge of the petals fell away and oh so slowly it turned into a bright yellow flower once more.

Tricia clapped her hands and squealed happily. Craig smiled.

But the flower wouldn't stop. It grew bigger and bigger until it couldn't take it anymore and expanded until it ripped itself apart like a little, fireless explosion.

Tricia cried.

Summer was in full heat so the flame in the middle of their house used to cook their food made Craig even hotter. His mother prepared some fish his father had caught, while his father gave some of the extra fish to a neighbor. Despite the heat, however, Craig himself was under the blanket of his bed fiddling with magic.

Craig enjoyed practicing magic. He actually felt that by focusing on how to use it, it was easier for him to control. Sure, saying he _could_ control it now would be a huge reach, but he thought he was getting better. He might not be able to fix wilting flowers without making them explode, but he was able to do it to multiple at a time now. Instead of willing for the color of one flower to change, he could will it to a whole patch of them. That was progress, right?

He was also getting better at making things levitate. As he had the blanket thrown over him, he played with a tiny stone he found near the riverbank. He had it go back and forth between his hands, spinning in little loops, freezing mid air. It was more fun than any of the toys his father had made him.

"Craig, can you help me?" his mother called out.

"Sure," he agreed, letting the stone fall and throwing the blanket off of him.

"Your sister keeps coming too close to the fire, can you please keep her attention until your father comes back?" she asked as she flipped over the fish.

"Okay!" he nodded. He really didn't mind his mother's request. He loved his little sister, and she was virtually the only other child he could play with. She was getting heavier, but he picked her up and carried her over to their bed, sitting himself down on the straw mattress and her on the floor in front of him.

"Fiuh!" she protested, reaching to the fire.

"No Tricia, that's too dangerous!" he insisted, pointing a finger scoldingly at her.

"Fiuh!" she frowned again.

"Fire hurts!" he found himself scolding his little sister more harshly, "You'll burn yourself!"

"I wike fiuh!" she pouted, stomping her feet. Before Craig could protest, she turned around and ran straight towards the fire as quickly as she could.

"No Tricia!" he yelled, raising his arm. He hadn't intended to use magic. Not that that ultimately mattered.

From his arm came a clear blast. It went straight through Tricia and into the flame, making it twice the size for a moment before returning to how it did before. Thankfully his mother was a few feet away from the fire to grab some plates and didn't get burnt. The fish on the other hand were completely engulfed and were instantly burnt to a crisp. Of course, the fish weren't that important as Tricia laid silently and motionlessly face down on the dirt floor.

"Patricia!" their mother screamed, running to her daughter. She picked up her up and brought her into her lap, tears instantly falling onto the toddler.

"What the hell just happened?" Craig's father burst through the entrance, sounding like he had just been running. He saw his wife clutching their oh so still daughter and ran to them.

With shaky legs, Craig stood up and walked over to his family. His mother still held Tricia while his father desperately shook her, calling out her name. With a gulp, he looked down onto her, expecting to see terrible burns.

But there weren't any. Instead, there was an almost slimy slick clear gloss that appeared to cover her, from her skin to her clothes to her hair. She looked perfectly fine, except for the fact she was completely unconscious. She could have just as easily been asleep.

Craig's father stood up and grabbed his son by the collar. "What the hell did you do to her?" That was angriest tone he had ever heard his father use.

"We have to do something about him, Laura," his father said after he thought Craig and Tricia were fast asleep.

"I know, Thomas," his mother answered in a melancholic voice that was practically a whisper. Somehow, her words cut far deeper than that of his father.

"I'm serious. We can't just have him running amok with this shit. It took her three days to wake up. How long will it take next time? What if he killed her? What if he kills someone else's child?"

"I said I know!" she said, raising her voice slightly yet still quietly enough to try and not awaken her children.

Was Craig dangerous? _He knew_ he had a dangerous power, _he knew_ that the kingdom's rules were for him to be taken away, _he knew_ that the others in the village didn't trust him. But was _he himself_ dangerous? Could he just...kill someone?

Craig felt sick. He never wanted to hurt his sister. He only wanted to protect her. Yet she slept with no response for three torturous days, no one knowing if she would _ever_ wake up. The doctor couldn't do anything and no one else could know that it was from magic or else they would almost _definitely_ force them to send Craig away.

Maybe he _should_ be sent away. Afterall, the rules were in place for a reason, weren't they? He wasn't ever going to be able to control his magic, was he? His existence only endangered his family, his village. Was he only a terror to them? His family, the village of Sundorham...they were good people. They deserved to live long and happy lives. He was just an outsider with no friends who...who shouldn't even be here! Didn't they deserve better than to live in constant fear of him?

"What are we gonna do?" his father asked, exasperated.

His parents would send him away, but he would be okay with that. He wouldn't be able to ever hurt Tricia again.

"I was thinking about...going through with _that_."

"Laura," his father gasped, "Are you sure?"

"What other option do we have?"

"You heard the risks," he told her, "You know what'll happen if it goes wrong."

"I know," she sighed. She paused for a moment, "But our boy is a fighter. If anyone can go through the process, he can. Plus if it works, he can be like any other boy."

"But what about-"

"Forget about that," she cut him off, "We were wrong to _ever_ impose that on him. This is something we should have done a long time ago."

"We're going to seal your magic up," his mother explained with a sympathetic but clearly fake smile as she served him his bowl of gruel for breakfast.

"Seal it up?" he asked with his spoon hanging out of his mouth.

"I guess you can think of it as, well...turning it off!" she explained.

"You can do that?" he asked skeptically, "Why didn't you do that before then?"

"We're doing it now and that's what matters," his father interjected sternly.

"Why doesn't everyone just get their magic turned off then?" he pressed anyway, "If you can just do that, then why not have it done instead of taking them away?"

"Enough questions," his father's voice grew sterner ever still. Craig looked to his mother to see if she would object, but she merely avoided eye contact with him as she served a bowl to Tricia.

After breakfast he saw his pebble he found near the river resting on the ground next to his bed. He picked it up and took it with him as he left. When he passed the pigsty without any sort of hesitation he threw the stone in it.

Craig remembered it actually taking a few weeks before his magic was to be sealed. Of course he gave up practicing magic as soon as he hurt Tricia. He slipped up and accidentally use magic a few times, which made him long for the day to come when it would be sealed away already. Sure, he had overheard his parents say it was dangerous for his magic to be sealed, but frankly he didn't care.

Apparently, someone special needed to come to do it. Craig didn't know who it was or how his parents even contacted them, but nonetheless one very early morning before the knights would make their way to the village a man in a hood came knocking on their door. His hood was so large, that it completely concealed his entire face, making Craig wonder how he saw anything in front of him.

"This is the boy, I take it?" he pointed to Craig, his voice deeply serious.

"Yes," his father said, his emotions unreadable.

"Then come with me," he motioned for Craig.

"Wait!" his mother interrupted. She quickly ran over to Craig. She bent down on one knee and gave him a strong hug, her feldspar necklace painfully indenting into his chest. Slowly she let him go, looked him in the eyes with a smile, and told him he could go.

Craig went with the man through the village and a few nosy neighbors stuck their heads out to get a quick look. Not wanting to deal with their questioning gazes, he kept his chin high and looked forward as the man guided him outside of the fenced area of the village and across the vast farmland.

"Are we leaving the village?" he asked. He was almost afraid to ask questions, given how intimidating the man was.

"No," he responded simply without stopping or looking back, "But we're going to the very edge-far enough from the village proper and away from any current crops."

"But why?" he asked, tilting his head.

The man stopped, but still didn't look back. "How much did they tell you about this?"

"That you're turning off my magic."

"I see…" he said. A moment later, he continued walking. Craig struggled to keep up.

They walked for a few more minutes until finally they were at a flat open field full only of grass turned yellow by the burning sun. Craig had never been out this far in his life.

"I did...overhear a few things," Craig admitted, "I know this is dangerous. It has to be, otherwise they'd just do it to all kids with magic instead of sending them away."

"Are you afraid?" the man asked.

"No."

"Then don't worry," he said, his voice suddenly more sympathetic and... _human_ , "I will make sure the ritual will be done as best as I can. If it goes wrong, I will make sure...Actually, no. I won't let anything happen to you, Craig."

"Okay," Craig agreed.

"Good," he nodded beneath his hood, "Now lay down on your back over here and stick out your tongue as far out as you can."

Craig couldn't remember the ritual itself. Was it part of the ritual for him to forget? Or was it a repressed memory on a psychological level? He did later come to know that he screamed so loud that people back in the village could hear. He also presumed there was an explosion of some kind. The grass all around him had gone from dried out yellow to pitch black in a perfect circle around him. Yet from the earliest he could remember after it happened, when he sat up, he felt...fine?

Though his tongue was sore in very weird, tingly way.

The seal was a marked seal in the literal sense. An intricate black round circle with an intricate laced design. It could theoretically go anywhere on his body, but the man who performed the ritual liked to place it on the bottom of the tongue so that it would be hard for anyone to see. It was placed back enough on his tongue so that he wouldn't accidentally cut the seal if he bit his tongue too hard heating. Craig was told to be careful to never accidentally cut the seal, or else it would be broken. He wasn't told what breaking it would entail, just to make sure he never did it.

The man politely helped him up and took him back home. His mother rushed and gave him the biggest hug, asking him if he was alright.

"I'm...okay?" was all he could say.

He was to stay in the house for the entire day to rest up, the man watching him to make sure nothing went wrong. His parents wanted to stay with him, but ultimately, as serfs, they had to work. Yet he didn't exactly feel like he _needed_ any rest. If anything he felt...emptier? Like a big part of him was just...gone. If there was a box that represented _him,_ it was as if roughly a third of it was taken out, leaving behind just...nothing. Not only inside of him-it was like _everything_ in the world around him had suddenly become...subdued.

It was weird not having magic anymore. No longer accidentally sending out blasts or being able to change things at will. He didn't even feel like he had to test it. He just _knew_ it was gone.

Yet despite the subdued nature of the world, despite the emptiness as if he lost a big part of himself, when he looked upon his baby sister running about, all he could think about was how he would never hurt her or anyone else in this village ever again. For that reason, he had never felt more content in his life as he did in that moment.


	16. Clyde

A couple years went by, and before long it felt to Craig as if he never had magic in the first place. Early on, his parents told him it was best to not mention it to Tricia. She was too young to clearly remember, so if it was never brought up again she simply wouldn't know. His parents eventually stopped mentioning it entirely, and his neighbors never brought it up to him in the first place. If it weren't for the glares from his two neighbors, it was as if it had been completely forgotten. He himself would have questioned whether or not it was all a false memory if it weren't for how he'd stick out his tongue when he went to the riverside and could see the reflection of his seal mark in the water.

Times did technically get tougher in the village. Shortly after his magic was sealed away, the knights announced that they were at war with the Dark Kingdom. It was a serious one, apparently, with most of the human kingdoms and even the elves joining up to try and stop them. It required the farmers of Sundorham to provide more supplies but crops had been plentiful so it wasn't too much of a loss. Despite supposedly being a huge, brutal war to Craig it was thousands of miles away. Life as he knew it didn't really change at all. It wasn't even _that_ long before the knights announced that they had won. They were given a day off and allowed to feast with the knights, but ultimately for Craig it felt like an unearned celebration.

No, he couldn't remember war against the Dark Kingdom ever affecting him. What _did_ change his life, however, was the announcement not long after the war that a new family was to settle in their little village of Sundorham. Of course, fellow serfs had no say in this sort of thing. They didn't own the land, they couldn't decide who came or went. Yet at the same time, they didn't have to _like_ it.

"Why would a merchant family wish to move here?" he heard a lady gossip as they planted seeds in the fields, "Especially now that the war is _over_. Who would give up their freedom to move here?"

"I'm sure they have their reasons," he heard his mother reply as she leaned over to continue planting, "Afterall...I did, didn't I?"

"Yes, but Laura dear, that's quite different."

"Is it?" she asked standing straight up to stretch her lower back for a moment. "I came here for family reasons. That's not any different from what this Roger fellow is claiming."

"Sure, but-"

"I think we owe this family the benefit of a chance," she shrugged before going back to work. Craig continued planting his own seeds beside them, taking in their words.

When the new family finally arrived, it was clear that even if Craig had lived in a village large enough to nott know everyone, the family would have stood out like a sore thumb making it clear it was them. It wasn't a large family-only a father and son-and they were both far better dressed than anyone else and carrying more possessions on their cart than any serf family owned. It was pretty standard for serfs to only have brown sack cloth clothing, but the boy's shirt was bright red. Not a rich boy's shirt by any means, but to Craig at the time it looked very nice.

The boy's face was incredibly puffy as if he had been crying. Craig figured probably from the stress of moving. He didn't want a crybaby around, but at this point he couldn't really blame him. The boy grabbed his father's arm as one of the village elders showed them around and directed them to a new house. It had belonged to an older couple who hadn't survived the previous winter. It was already dusk, so Craig decided that he wouldn't try to speak to the new family until the following morning. Being the same age they were to be paired up, so to speak, and starting the next day he was expected to assist the boy in getting used to life in Sundorham.

"So you're from that new family, huh?" Craig introduced himself bright and early.

"Um, I guess so," the boy said. Up close, Craig he could see that he was young. Probably about Craig's own age but stockier and healthier compared to his own malnourished self. The boy's brown hair was messy, but it was shiny.

"You don't seem like the rest of us," he commented, "I don't get why someone like you join our village." The boy looked confused, scared even. Too much so to answer. "I mean if you don't want to talk and fit in that's your problem, new kid," Craig shrugged and turned back around to his own place.

"I'm Clyde," the boy suddenly called out, trying to stop Craig from leaving.

"I didn't ask _who_ you were," Craig turned around, "I asked _why_ you'rehere."

"Why are _you_ here?" the boy questioned back.

"I was born here, obviously," Craig raised an eyebrow. "Most of us are born here and don't have a choice. Not that it's any of your business, but my mom's an exception. She came here because she liked my dad or whatever. She had a reason. What's yours?"

"Um," the boy thought, "I guess because my mom died. My dad wanted us to have a safe, steady life or something."

"That's dumb."

"How's it dumb?" Clyde scrunched his face offendedly, "Who are you to say I don't belong here?"

"Chill out," Craig rolled his eyes, "I didn't say you don't belong here."

"You said our reasons were dumb."

"That's different," Craig shrugged.

"You seem like you don't like me being here," Clyde frowned.

"Nah, it's a small village, hating you would just cause trouble," Craig explained, "And there aren't really other boys our age, so I should probably get to know you. You should learn to not be offended by everything I say when I'm just trying to ask you stuff."

The other boy's face lit up, "Does that mean you wanna be friends?"

"I haven't decided yet. If you don't annoy me too much, maybe."

"Oh thank god!" the boy's face instantly became flooded with tears of joy, "I was afraid I was going to be all alone here."

He wondered what sort of life the boy had lived. Afterall, Craig had spent his entire life so far alone and without a single friend.

"I said _maybe_."

He introduced Clyde to basic farming tools and how to use them. He was incredibly reckless and useless, dropping them all over the place. Craig had to duck a few times from him swinging around the sharp blades. It was kind of annoying, even Tricia at her young age and lack of concern for farming was better than that. Hell, his mother grew up a noble didn't she? Yet she was just as competent of a farmer as everyone else.

Still, as he went to bed that night annoyed at the new kid's uselessness and airheadedness. Yet, as he laid there that night a single phrase played over and over in his head.

" _Why are_ you _here?"_

He had instinctively answered that he was born here, and it was true. Yet at the same time, if he was to think harder upon it, why _was_ he here? His magic was sealed away, but he was still technically magical. He should have been taken away when he was one years old. Why wasn't he? His family would never answer, which led him to stop asking.

He thought with his magic sealed he would feel like he had more of a place in this society. Yet he didn't. Well, in some respects he did. He no longer had to worry about hurting anyone or anything with magic. As long as he didn't stick his tongue out, he didn't have to worry about any officials finding out and taking him away. He could finally blend in without fear, be it from himself or to anyone else.

Yet it still felt so... _fake_.

"So, like...you guys just do this everyday?" Clyde asked a few days in.

"What do you mean?" Craig asked, leaning on his rake.

"Farming. All day, every day?"

"We have days off," he shrugged. The next one was coming up the day after tomorrow.

"Yeah, but you can't leave or anything, right? You're just hanging around your village."

"Sometimes we go to the river," Craig added.

"That's not that exciting."

Craig furrowed his brows, "Well sorry, but that's how we live."

"And...you're okay with that?"

"I've never known anything else," Craig frowned as he started raking the soil again.

"Don't you want to?" Clyde pressed on, "It's a big world out there. Are you telling me you're not curious?"

"Not really," he answered honestly without stopping or looking up from the soil. He never really _thought_ about it. This _was_ his life. His life he wanted so desperately to fit into perfectly. Why would he even think about leaving, especially when he knew by now that he wouldn't ever be permitted to anyway?

"Well, not me," Clyde announced, still not getting back to work, "This is just going to be a temporary thing for me."

"It doesn't work that way," Craig rolled his eyes with a huff, "Once you become a serf you can't just _back out._ "

"We'll see about that."

Craig stopped and stood up straight. "Okay, say you do get out. What are you planning on doing? Who would take you?"

Clyde thought for a moment. "Well, to be fair my original life plans did kind of get shattered forever. But I don't know, I think I can make do. Maybe I'll go to the sea and become a pirate."

"A pirate," Craig blinked, instantly amazed at how stupid this boy was.

"I said _maybe_ ," Clyde pouted with a blush.

Craig couldn't remember exactly when Clyde went from a nuisance to a friend. It was gradual, but probably a lot quicker than he admitted to himself at the time. Clyde was still an incompetent farmer, but at least he'd sometimes put forth half hearted effort.

Still, even if he was annoying and barely actually helped, Craig felt a lot happier with him around. He hadn't even realized just how lonely he was until another peer came into his life. Someone his age to talk to, to vent to, to even joke around with. He overheard his parents mention how much happier he seemed to be ever since Clyde came to town, and Craig couldn't disagree. Perhaps for once he felt like a normal kid.

"Do you have any secrets?" Clyde asked. It was one of their days off. The two of them went out on their own far from everyone else and laid down on an open field to watch the clouds alone.

"What do you mean?" Craig asked, taking his eyes from the sky to look at him.

"You know, stuff you're not supposed to tell anyone," Clyde explained.

"I know what a secret is, idiot," Craig frowned, throwing a handful of dead grass at his friend.

"Hey!" Clyde protested, brushing the grass off. Craig bit the inside of his mouth to fight back a grin. Clyde rolled his eyes and laid back down. "Well," he finally continued, "Do you?"

"I guess kind of," Craig shrugged, looking back up at the sky, "I mean a lot of people know it. It's just that certain people can't know it and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to bring it up again."

"Do I already know?" Clyde asked, looking over to his friend, his brown eyes sparkling with interest

"No," Craig replied.

Clyde frowned. "Am I one of the people who _can't_ know?" he asked.

"Not exactly."

"Then tell me!" he demanded a little too ecstatically, a large grin growing on his face. Craig looked over to his friend for a moment, and then looked back up to the sky.

"I shouldn't."

"What? Why not?!" Clyde pouted, "I'm your friend! Don't you trust me?"

"It's not that…"

"If you tell me your secret, I'll tell you one of mine!" Clyde pushed.

"I probably won't care about your secret," Craig rolled his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure any secret of mine is far worse than any of yours," Clyde told him confidently.

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Try me," he sat up, putting his hands on his hips.

"Since you're not going to let it go, then fine," Craig furrowed his brows and sat up. "I-"

He paused. He didn't know exactly what Clyde thought of magic. What if he hated magic and magic users? What if he thought he should be sent away? Would it ruin their entire relationship if he knew?

"C'mon, I _promise_ I won't judge you," Clyde whined.

"I...I _had_ magic."

Craig didn't even realize he instinctively squeezed his eyes shut until he heard Clyde make a strange noise. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked over to his friend. He was rolling over laughing.

"What's so funny?" Craig found himself turning red. Did he not believe him? He had the mark under his tongue to prove it. Did he think magic was a laughing matter? He could have been taken away as a small child if he had been discovered. Did he think it was funny that it was "taken away" as if he "lost" his magic like one loses a misplaced glove? Once again, he had the mark to show exactly how it happened _intentionally_.

"Me too!" Clyde continued laughing. Craig blinked.

"What do you mean 'me too'?"

"I mean I had magic too!" he calmed down, wiping away a few tears from his eyes.

"Really?" Craig asked skeptically.

"Yes, really!"

"You have a seal, too?" Craig asked, "Did they put it under your tongue like me?"

"Huh? No, mine wasn't _sealed_ away," Clyde tilted his head, laughter completely gone, "It was completely wiped."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, if it's _sealed_ away, it can be unsealed obviously," Clyde explained in the same condescending tone Craig usually gave him, "But if it's wiped, it's wiped. For good."

Craig pondered this for a moment. It was very possible Clyde was lying to him.

"So you're saying if I rip my seal…?"

"You'd get your magic back just as it was," Clyde shrugged, "Simple as that. I'm guessing they didn't tell you that because they don't want you to. Where is yours, anyway?"

"Under my tongue," Craig explained. He stuck out his tongue upwards to show him.

"Amazing," Clyde leaned in to look at his seal. He reached forward to grab his tongue, but Craig smacked his dirty hand away. Still, Clyde bent his head and looked at it carefully. "Sealing away magic is really rare, you know. One, a sharp cut through it will break it. Two, because it's so dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Craig asked, putting his tongue back in his mouth.

"Yeah, it requires a lot of dark magic," Clyde explained, "It can very easily backfire and instead of sealing away the magic, it can corrupt it and the user forever. People have done that on _purpose_ to people to turn them into abominations, but it rarely ends well because they're not going to listen to the person who casts it or anything. The only option is to try and kill the newly corrupted person before they get away."

"Then why does anyone do it?" Craig found himself shocked.

"Well, skilled enough people are able to do it successfully. You obviously came out okay. But a lot of people aren't willing to risk it and anyway and even if it _technically_ makes you undetectable to magic tests, it's not like Kupa accepts that as being suddenly non-magical when a flick of a blade can undo it...which is why it's under your tongue and not on your back or something. Though knowledge about it is pretty rare in human kingdoms, so I'm surprised your parents both knew about it and knew someone who could do it."

"Then why use it at all?"

"From what I've heard, it's usually used not to _hide_ magic but to...hold magical people back."

"Hold them back?"

"Well yeah," he said, "Normal magic users can just...you know, not use their magic. But very rarely there are magic users who have too much of it that they _can't_. Or, I guess they could _learn_ just like anyone else, but that's not the path they want to go down."

"I couldn't control my magic," Craig found himself saying. More to himself than to Clyde.

"Wow you must be _really_ powerful then," Clyde practically glowed.

"I don't care about that. I couldn't be happier over the fact that it's sealed away and I'll never have to deal with it again."

"Man, that's so boring," Clyde frowned.

"And what about you?" Craig asked, changing the subject, "How your magic was just wiped away. Why isn't that just standard?"

"It can't be," he sighed, turning away to stare up at the sky, "If it was _possible_ to be standard, I'm sure it would be. The Grand Wizard would cast it on everyone in Zaron if he had free reign to. I mean...he _does_ have the method to, it's just the royalty keep him in check."

"But the royalty are okay with babies being taken from their families, aren't they? Why wouldn't they be okay with him or others casting that ritual?"

"It's not a ritual, and it's not about that," Clyde turned more grim, "No magic user, no matter how powerful can do a ritual like that. It contradicts the entire _nature_ of magic. There's just one thing that allows magic users to break those rules."

"He broke the rules for you specifically?" Craig leaned away, "Geez dude, how powerful _were_ you?"

"Not just me," Clyde insisted, "I actually didn't have that much. It was a bunch of people."

"Are you going to be cagey, or are you gonna tell me?" Craig asked, getting mildly annoyed.

Clyde lifted up a finger. "Not fair, I've told you _more_ than one secret. You're going to have to do better than that to get more out of me."

At first, everything Clyde told him was a lot to take in. When he went to bed that night, he sat awake questioning if Clyde was playing a joke on him. Yet, he seemed to know quite a lot of specifics to the extent that made it very difficult to believe he made everything up.

Yet once he determined Clyde was telling the truth, everything sort of seemed to change. Clyde was the first peer he related to in general, but now they also had the shared experience of being former magic users in a kingdom that looked down upon them.

At the same time, the two's _feelings_ towards magic couldn't have been any more different.

"Why don't you break your seal?" Clyde asked him.

"Why would I?" Craig asked him with a heavy groan.

"I was formally trained in magic, you know," he insisted, "I could help you control it."

"Even if I _did_ trust your probably terrible teaching skills...No."

"Why not?" Clyde asked him dumbfoundedly.

"I don't need magic. I don't _want_ it. If I could have it permanently taken from me like it was from you, I would. What use would it be to me here, anyway?"

"It would make life here less boring," Clyde offered.

"Not interested."

"Okay, what if you leave this place? What if you move to a place where it would be perfectly acceptable for you to be a magic user _and_ you could get a teacher who you could trust more than me?"

"I'm _not_ leaving Sundorham but even if I ever did...still not interested."

"What if it was a life or death situation?" he pressed further, "Where the only way to live would be to use your magic?"

"I guess I'd die then."

"We can't keep living like this, Craig."

"I know Clyde."

"You know, if you broke your seal and used your magic, you could get us a place to live. Or even if not that, you could at least make us goddamn _food_ to eat."

"I'm sorry Clyde."

Life on the streets of Kupa City were difficult, far more difficult than Craig had ever expected. And he figured life here was going to be difficult to begin with.

"Why are you so stubborn about this?" Clyde sat up from the wet blanket he had been laying down on, "Do you have any idea how much of a gold mine you are sitting on? One little cut and you can free us from _all_ of this. But no, you just have to be stubborn like always, even if it kills _both_ of us."

"I'm not going to let you die, Clyde," Craig shook his head, "But using my magic isn't the answer. If anything, it just puts us in _more_ danger."

"Bullshit," Clyde spat. It was then he started coughing heavily again. Craig instantly went down on his knees to the cold, wet alley corner they slept in and pulled the damp blanket over his sick friend. Clyde smacked his hand away. "Don't help me unless you're going to help for real!"

Craig sighed sadly as he stood back up.

He understood why Clyde felt as he did. He had magic once, magic he could control in a kingdom that didn't vilify him for it. He never accidentally hurt the ones he loved with it. Clyde would do _anything_ for his magic back. Of course Craig would seem foolish for just giving it up, not using it even in dire circumstances.

But he was still wrong.

It was at that time he first began thieving. It was out of desperation and he knew it was incredibly dangerous. But in his mind, it was far less dangerous than him attempting to use magic as Clyde had wished him to. Plus, he had a natural talent for it _unlike_ his inability to control his magic. He had been able to use it to get Clyde medicine to help him get well, to get them supplies, and would eventually help them get a roof over their head. Maybe it wasn't _good_. But it was definitely _justified._

He especially never regretted becoming a thief over the alternative.

Clyde didn't disagree with him thieving. It did help them out quite a deal, so it would have been silly for him to object, afterall. This was the boy who talked about being a pirate, there was no reason morally for him to object as well.

Still, Clyde's desire for Craig to unleash his magic never went away.

"We could do it, y'know," Clyde would say.

"Do what?" Craig raised an eyebrow as he put their dinner on their shabby table. Dinner that he stole for them in their apartment they had only just moved into a few days prior. They were still young, children in the eyes of most of the city. Still, money was money so the man at the tanning shop had allowed them to move in.

"You know how I said my plans were ruined by losing my magic?" Clyde said as he tore off a chunk of bread from the loaf in front of him, "I think I take that back."

"I thought you said it wasn't possible to get your magic back," Craig leaned back in his chair.

"Well, yeah. I probably still can't do that," he said with his mouth full, "But I'm thinking I don't _need_ my magic."

"Didn't you say you'd _need_ magic to get your kingdom restored?" Craig rolled his eyes, "The kingdom you still won't ever name to me."

"Yeah, but I've been thinking-"

"You? Thinking? Sounds dangerous."

Clyde frowned. "I've been _thinking_...Magic is needed and all, but it doesn't have to be _me_ specifically."

"Well, I hope you find someone willing to help you because it's definitely not going to be me," Craig replied bluntly as he ate some of his own food.

"C'mon man," Clyde sulked, "Just imagine it."

"Imagine what?"

"You and me. Running an entire kingdom. I'll be the king, and you'll be my loyal mage and right hand man right at my side."

"Still not interested."

"Why not?" Clyde pushed, "We would be _free_ from this nonsense. Able to break away from this shitty kingdom once and for all. No more hiding, no more having to pretend to be something we're not. You could be _you_ again. No more Feldspar but instead just...Craig. Craig, a guy born with magic who doesn't have anything to be ashamed of."

"I don't _want_ to be defined by my magic," Craig scowled.

"But do you want to have to keep living in fear, knowing that so many people here would kill you for it without a second thought?"

"Well, no, of course not-"

"In my kingdom, it wouldn't matter if you had magic. In fact, you'd be _celebrated_ for it. I know you're afraid because of how much pressure it puts on you, how you hurt your sister, but just think about what would have happened if you grew up in a world that _didn't_ outcast you for it."

"I don't _want_ to think about it," Craig replied as he balled his hands into fists.

"Well _fine,_ " Clyde frowned, "Then don't think about it like that. Think about it in terms of...everything else. How even if we _weren't_ born as a magic users how much we would still have to hide in this kingdom. Think about how you were born into a village that you were the _property_ of. How you couldn't leave, how _none_ of us could leave. How that obsessive bitch wants them to hunt us down to make us her property _again._ How so many in other villages _still_ are forced to live in those terrible conditions. How we're forced to live _here_."

"What's your point?" Craig looked up at him skeptically, loosening his fists slightly.

"Well, if I'm a king and you're my right hand man, we wouldn't have to live like that anymore. Obviously."

"So what? We'd be just as bad as Kupa then?" Craig let out a laugh of disbelief, "You want me to become what I hate?"

"Well, if we controlled everything, obviously we…" Clyde thought long and hard, "We wouldn't have to have the kingdom set up like that!" he raised a finger.

"Go on," Craig's eyes narrowed.

"Well, if I'm King then obviously I make the rules, right?" Clyde offered as it was clear he finally got Craig's attention, "I could make things more uh...equaltarian."

"It's _egalitarian_."

"Right, that," Clyde nodded, "I'd make the rules so there's no serfs or whatever. None of that."

Craig glanced at him long and hard for a moment before looking away.

"It's not going to happen, anyway," he sighed as he took a bite of food, "You can't just storm in and reform a kingdom."

After that, Clyde only briefly pushed the issue again. Craig knew he hadn't given it up, but that he was more than likely not wanting to sour him on the idea anymore. Craig wasn't stupid, Clyde knew that he was open to listening once he said the right words. Perhaps he was waiting to try and think of a "realistic" way to play out his plans to then share them to Craig again.

Craig thought it was ridiculous. How could the two of them just be expected to reclaim some destroyed kingdom? Craig using his magic to do so? He barely knew how to do _anything_ with his abilities when he had them. Sure he had _raw_ potential, but what did that even mean?

Plus, he didn't _want_ to use magic. He _wanted_ it sealed away forever. If Clyde took back his kingdom...then good for him! But he wasn't willing to just become some shitty mage for him. Not to mention, they were still in the eyes of most _just kids_. Too inexperienced for that sort of responsibility.

Craig sat under the statue he had at that point recently come to enjoy sitting under as he ate lunch many days.

He loved Clyde, but he wasn't always the smartest person he knew. He meant well, but he always had unrealistic delusions of grandeur. He wasn't sure which kingdom his mother was from, but part of him highly doubted that she was actually royalty like he claimed. He was probably just some low level noblewoman, but Clyde just wanted to build her up to be even greater in his head.

He also realized that he actually still knew very little about Clyde, despite all they had been through.

He leaned back against the statue. It was a sunny day, but it provided a nice amount of shade. He could take a nap for a few moments.

That was, until he was interrupted.

"Craig…?" a voice called out.

Craig shot up instantly. It wasn't normal to hear his real name from anyone who wasn't Clyde, and that female voice most definitely wasn't him.

Instead, it was that green haired woman. Lady McDaniels, the woman who owned Sundorham.

Clyde and him had seen her several times around, and he knew exactly who she was upon first sight. She didn't take the destruction of the village well at all, demanding that Kupa City rebuild and bring back her workers to her. Workers she had insisted escaped. There was worry that she may recognize Clyde as he had met her before they moved to the village, but Craig never had any reason to suspect that _he_ could be recognized. He hadn't even recalled _seeing_ this woman before he came to the city.

Yet there she was, calling him by his real name.

"Sorry, my name is Feldspar," Craig tried to answer as naturally as possible, ignoring the pounding in his chest.

"No that can't be," she shook her head, slowly and cautiously approaching him, "You're Craig."

"Lady, I'm sorry but you must be confusing me for someone else," he slowly started to stand up. There were walls and thick shrubbery three of the four sides around him. He wasn't sure how he could run away from this one. But unless he could convince her, he would have to. Fast.

"Don't lie to me," her surprised expression grew angry, "I know _exactly_ who and what you are."

"And what might that be?" he tried to answer with forced irritation in his voice. He tried to stay calm. Afterall, it was possible that she knew _another_ Craig.

"You are Craig, son of Thomas and Laura," she declared, "From Sundorham. _My_ Sundorham."

"You're crazy, lady," Craig did his best to keep his composure, but he could hear the tone in his voice slipping into fear. He couldn't get caught here and now. He wasn't just going to let this lady ruin the life him and Clyde were just starting to get stabilized.

"Craig, I know you must be frightened by this and wonder how I know what I do," she told him, "But believe me when I say I do."

"Enough!" he practically yelled, "Just lay off my back already. My name is _Feldspar_."

"I'm sorry, Craig, but I'm going to have to ask you to come with me," she came ever closer, reaching out an arm to him.

"The hell I will!"

"That wasn't a request. Now come with-"

Mid sentence she froze, her eyes growing large with shock. A slight amount of blood pooled out of her mouth. Craig didn't understand what happened.

A moment later she fell face down to the ground. It was then he could see that a knife had stabbed her from behind. Craig froze with fear, staring at the gaping wound on her. Trembling, he looked up to see if there were any signs of the attacker.

Instead he saw Clyde.

"I guess I came just in time," Clyde said with a smirk.

"Did you just-Did you just _kill her_?"

"If I didn't, she would have just taken you away," Clyde shrugged like it was nothing, "I basically just saved your life. You're welcome."

"But you could have just-"

"If you ran away, she would have still searched for you," Clyde told him as he took his blade out from out of her body, "You told her your name and all, so it wouldn't have taken her very long to find you."

"Still, I just-You just-" Craig shook his head, unable to comprehend what had just happened, "You just _murdered her._ "

"I guess so, yeah," Clyde agreed without looking back up. He wiped the blood off the blade onto his shirt. The red of his shirt caused it to blend in, making it impossible to tell that it was covered in blood.

"How are you so... _calm_ about this?"

Clyde gave a deep sigh as he returned his cleaned blade to his belt.

"I think it's time I tell you where I'm _really_ from."

"Now I _know_ you're bullshitting me," Craig crossed his arms. They were back in their small apartment sitting on Craig's makeshift bed. They hadn't gotten either of them any form of mattress yet.

"It's true."

"You're not from the fucking Dark Kingdom, Clyde."

"I am," he insisted.

"No you're not," Craig insisted back.

"I'm actually surprised you didn't figure it out earlier."

"Fuck off," Craig frowned, getting genuinely irritated.

"C'mon think about it," Clyde groaned, "I came just after the war ended. I told you my mom's kingdom was destroyed."

"You told me your family was targeted because it was a Kupa-foreign family."

"And that's _true_ , because any time that happens it _is_ illegal. But...I did mislead you for my dad's and my safety."

"Okay well...The Queen of the Dark Kingdom had a daughter, not a son. Explain that."

"Yeah, my sister," Clyde frowned sadly, "She was killed. You knew that."

"Then why-"

"She was the heir to the throne" he explained, "For that reason, I was able to be kept under wraps."

"But your dad-"

"During the war, they were going to kill me," Clyde looked down at his feet, his eyebrows furrowed with anger, "Because of course people who mattered found out."

"But you got away?"

"They said they felt pity for me," he looked back up at Craig, "That I was _just a child_." His gaze grew more intense. "Well, they're going to regret that decision one day. They took _everything_ from me. My family, my kingdom, my magic, my throne...They even allowed my _new_ home to get destroyed!"

"But wasn't the Dark Kingdom...bad?" Craig brought himself to ask. He knew it wasn't the most tactful question, but he had to have that cleared up.

"Are you going to tell me that the Kingdom of Kupa Keep _isn't_?" Clyde scoffed, "Or the High Elf Kingdom, a kingdom that prides themselves on being _so_ advanced and civil but burned villagers alive for the sake of some pointless war? Or what about the barbarians, who skin and eat people alive for merely trying to cross their land? Are you really going to say any of _them_ are good?"

"Well, no, of course not," Craig agreed, "But it's just...As bad as all those things are, it seemed like common knowledge that the Dark Kingdom was...well, _worse_. Like of all the disagreements in Zaron between kingdoms of all races, that seemed to be one thing universally agreed on."

"Okay, maybe we were," Clyde finally allowed, "In our own way. I guess."

"In your own way?"

"Well first of all, we didn't fear dark magic, we embraced it," Clyde explained, "We didn't fear the darkness in general. But on the other hand, I don't think any kingdom _really_ does. They all parade about talking about how moral, civilized, and honorable they are...but are they _really_? The Dark Kingdom just...was what it was. They didn't try to hide behind some fake sense of morality. They're not like Kupa, how they argue that ripping babies was for the greater good when in reality it is and always has been for the Wizard's ego."

"But does that make them...better?"

"If you want transparency and no bullshit, then I'd argue yes."

"Still," Craig tried to take this all in, "Even if they're _transparent_ about bad things, they're still... _bad_. They shouldn't just be _excused_ , should they?"

"Maybe not," Clyde shrugged, "But you're forgetting the part where I'm the heir to the throne."

"No, I'm not," Craig frowned.

"Okay, fine, whatever," Clyde rolled his eyes, "You're forgetting the _implications_ of me being the heir to the throne."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, like we talked about earlier. If I'm king and you're my mag-right hand man, together we can make new rules, can't we?"

"I mean I guess but-"

"What do you mean you guess?" Clyde crossed his arms, "Of course we can. We can reform the Dark Kingdom into whatever we want. All that stuff you complain about Kupa, you can reform the Dark Kingdom to be everything that Kupa's _not._ I mean, maybe we can even expand the kingdom, taking over all of Zaron to be some uh...whatever you want it to be."

"The Dark Kingdom was completely destroyed once," Craig reminded him, "Who is to say they don't do it again?"

Clyde smiled. "I have an idea."

"Tell me then," Craig pushed.

"Nope, not yet!" he laughed.

Still, despite his better judgements and lack of a concrete plan Craig agreed. _Maybe_ , that is. _Potentially_.

Despite Clyde said, unrevealed plan, over the following years he only occasionally would mention their intended goal. He claimed that he had to wait for the right moment, even if it took years and years of waiting. Craig was annoyed that Clyde didn't ever tell him any more than that, but he accepted it. It was especially easy when he told himself he didn't fully commit to the idea anyway.

"There won't be any serfdoms in the Dark Kingdom, right?" Craig brought up in passing once a few days after Clyde first told him.

"Of course not," Clyde would laugh, "I know you wouldn't agree to this otherwise."

"I know but-" Craig paused, thinking of what to say, "I dunno, I don't really trust power much."

"Really Craig?" Clyde looked incredibly offended, "Not even me? You think I'm _that_ untrustworthy with power?"

"I mean I don't trust you to make our dinner," Craig teased.

"I'm serious, Craig," his eyes remained narrowed at him.

"C'mon, what do you think?" Craig rolled his eyes.

"Say you trust me," Clyde continued to eye him.

"What?"

"Say it."

"No."

"Say it."

"Fine," Craig scowled, "I trust you."

"Good," Clyde's glare turned into a smile.

He did trust him. In fact, he was the only person he could really trust. And Clyde liked to remind him of that frequently over the years.

It's just that his whole life he had trouble accepting power. Though perhaps Clyde was right. He knew him, he trusted him. He shouldn't be thinking like that.

"You don't exactly have the best street smarts," Craig said offhandedly once.

"If it weren't for me, you'd have wandered in saying your identity," Clyde scoffed, "You'd be slaving away in the _'workforce'_. I mean even if not then, it woulda happened when you allowed yourself to get noticed by Lady McDaniels."

"Yeah, but if it weren't for _me_ you'd have died sick on the streets," Craig crossed his arms annoyedly. Clyde was never going to let him live that down, would he?

"Okay, fine you helped," Clyde allowed, "But unlike you I'm able to actually socialize with people here. You can't get along with anyone but me. Even back in Sundorham, you've _never_ been able to get along with anyone but me because you're kind of a huge asshole."

"I'm not a people person. Some people just aren't. I'd say it's helped me survive."

"Just admit that you need me," Clyde crossed his arms.

"Fuck off."

"Hey, stop being a dick," Clyde frowned, "You're my best friend. I don't mean that in a _bad_ way."

Craig knew he was right. He never got along with anyone, being an outcast in his village with no one his own age until Clyde came along. He was an impersonal thief who worked based on contract, not making relationships knowing that he would betray them if someone gave him a higher offer. Hell, he even made it on the bad side of the law enforcement in this city, as they knew without proof he was a thief and suspected him of murder. Even if he was _involved_ with the murder of Lady McDaniels, he didn't actually do it, _Clyde_ did. Yet, he couldn't be the least bit mad that _he_ was the suspect.

Clyde murdered someone to protect _him_. Clyde understood what it was like to be a secret magic user. Clyde knew what it was like to be a serf. After all these years, Clyde was the only one who understood him, who could _tolerate_ him.

Clyde also promised that he would take them out of this world, didn't he? That they could live a better life, giving Craig everything that he could ever reasonably want. In turn, what did Craig even do? Snark back at him? Belittle his intelligence? Get overly jealous when he brought his girlfriend home? Refuse to use his magic even when Clyde would layout how much it would help them?

"Alright," Craig responded with an annoyed sigh, "You win. You're right. I do need you."

"Thank you," Clyde gave a playfully serious nod.

"And you know, I've been thinking," Craig instinctively fiddled with his necklace, "About what you've always said."

"I've said a lot."

"About...magic," he let out, "You know, I still don't like the idea of ever using magic and...don't think I'm going to break the seal anytime soon. But...Once we're about to take over the Dark Kingdom...and _only_ then...I think I'll break it."

Clyde's eyes lit up, "That's great!"

"I'm serious," Craig threw his hands up, "Not a moment before, okay?"

"You are going to be the fiercest and most powerful Dark Mage Zaron has ever seen."

"I know you might not like this, but hear me out," Clyde pressed a few years later.

"If you know I won't like it, why should I?"

Clyde ignored him. "I know you think we should take our time setting up our own kingdom before expanding to the rest of Zaron."

"Yes, that's the reasonable thing to do," Craig raised an eyebrow.

"But you see," Clyde continued to ignore him, "The thing is...my secret uh, _method_ , to getting our power is a lot more convenient than you think."

"And you're still not going to tell me what it is?"

"Don't worry, you'll find out on your own, I promise," Clyde raised his hands up defensively, "But if I told you now you wouldn't even believe me."

"Well, go on with what you want to now then," Craig groaned.

"I've been vague, but what will give _us_ power...it's the same thing that took _mine_ away."

"Alright."

"So what I'm saying is, I've been hesitant to tell you, but it really will be... _that_ simple. You can just undo everything"

"Then why don't we do it now?" Craig asked skeptically.

"Obviously, if I could, I would," Clyde sounded annoyed, "But I don't have it yet...and _you're_ going to have to do it with your magic by the way. But don't worry, it'll be incredibly easy."

"Alright," Craig repeated, "But what was that you were saying about _expanding_?"

"Oh right!" Clyde clapped his hands together, "About that. It really will be that simple so…"

"So?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Why not just have our revenge right from the beginning?" he offered, "I think having a big entrance on the global stage, so to speak, would set a big president."

"You're making it sound like we're the bad guys," Craig leaned back with mild disgust.

"Aren't we?" Clyde asked with a genuine expression, "I mean we're already scam artists. You're a professional thief. We've murdered someone. You're kind of a heartless asshole, aren't you?"

"I'm an asshole, but I never thought of myself as a _bad_ person."

"I hate to break it to you, but you kind of are," Clyde laughed, "I mean c'mon, I told you when I first explained the Dark Kingdom that our motto is to be upfront with that sorta thing. None of this feigning morality where there is none. You steal prized possessions from people and double cross them. There isn't a single person you're genuinely kind to, including me."

"Yeah, but-"

"Just accept it, dude," Clyde laughed even harder, "You're a _terrible_ person."

"I-" Craig found himself unable to find a response to Clyde.

Was he wrong? He wanted to say he was, but _was_ he? Everything he had just said about him was true. He did steal for a living, not really caring about the feelings of those he stole from. He wasn't a kind person. He did plan on reviving a kingdom that had done unspeakably horrible things.

Sure, he would make the kingdom better than that, he told himself. Him and Clyde wouldn't be as low as the nobility and royalty of Kupa or the High Elf Kingdom.

He stole from nobles, not caring about their feelings because he felt they _deserved_ it. They had their riches, and he merely took from them what they shouldn't have had in the first place. When so many had _nothing_ because of them, why _should_ he care about their sorrows over losing one of many of their possessions.

Did that extend to him as a co-ruler of the Dark Kingdom? These other kingdoms, their nobles destroyed the Dark Kingdom, they destroyed poor serf villages. Why did they get to continue life as usual without any fear of repercussions? Wasn't it the same line of reasoning as him stealing?

Maybe it did make him a bad person. Yet at the same time, it was _justified._ Wasn't it?

"I guess you're right," Craig replied.


	17. Chapter 14

"You slept in today," Tweek announced as Craig awoke the next morning.

"I was tired," he yawned as he stretched his shoulders that were stiff from the hard cave floor, "Plus the cave is always dark, so I didn't have sunlight to wake me." It was a little lighter in the cave than it had been at night, due to being not too terribly far from the exit, but still considerably dark.

"That makes sense," Tweek replied, "Hiking the snowy mountains would take a lot out of anyone."

Craig couldn't say that part of it was staying up especially late to talk to the man he was planning on betraying him with. So instead he tried to shift the subject elsewhere.

"How's the weather looking today?" he asked.

"It's not snowing, thankfully," Tweek informed him, "Though there's still a lot of snow on the ground and it's still cold."

"So you finally admit you feel cold?" Craig gave a crooked smirk.

Tweek frowned, his cheeks becoming slightly pink. "Anyway," he tried to change the subject, "I think we should eat quickly and get going. Who knows when it will start snowing again. This winter is only going to get worse."

"Alright," Craig stood up and stretched his back, "How are we doing food-wise, anyway?"

"I think we're fine. I prepared some for us while you were still asleep. I think as long as we don't get stranded or lose anything, if we ration we should last a few more days. Once we get to elven territory we're going to have to find more, though."

"It shouldn't take more than about that much time," Craig said as he rubbed his stiff neck. He slept in a lot of hard places, but the cold, jagged cave floor probably won the prize for the most uncomfortable.

"Right," Tweek nodded. He then stood up from the boulder he had been sitting upon and picked up a small sachel that had been on the ground beside it and opened it. He took out a handful of the substance and handed it to Craig. He looked at it.

"Dried fruit?" he asked. It was hard to tell in the dimly lit cave, but that's certainly what it looked like, albeit a type of fruit he had never laid eyes on before.

"Yes," Tweek confirmed, "It's from my home. I've been saving it all this time since I left, but decided after everything we could have some now."

Craig blinked. "Why now?"

"As a thank you," he answered plainly.

"For what?"

"Telling me your name," he said with a smile.

"Oh right," Craig blinked, "I'd already forgotten about that."

"Craig," Tweek nodded.

"Yeah."

"It's a nice name, I think. Less of a mouthful than Feldspar," he chuckled quietly under his breath as he sat back down on his boulder.

"I guess," he shrugged, looking down at the fruit in his hand, "Like 'Tweek.' One syllable."

"Syllable?" Tweek tilted his head to the side, "What's that?"

"Oh right, even with your accent I always forget this isn't your first language," he replied. He sat and thought for a moment. "I never really thought about what it means, actually. But 'Craig' and 'Tweek' have one. 'Feld-spar' has two...if that makes sense."

"Maybe?" he pondered, bringing a finger to his mouth as he thought.

"'Bar-bar-i-an' has four," he explained as he took a bite of the dried fruit. It was surprisingly sweet and chewy. He liked it.

"Oh, I get it," Tweek nodded, "But I think in my language we don't really have a word for that."

"Still, you're really good at Kupa's language. Is it normal for Barbarians to know it?"

"Thank you," Tweek smiled, "But no, not really. I mean some do, so I was able to study it formally, but I learned a lot of it from the gnomes. I liked studying languages."

"Barbarians actively study languages?" Craig raised an eyebrow as he chewed some of the dried fruit, "Do you have some Barbarian academy or something?"

"We don't really have the same sort of formal schools like other countries, but of _course_ we still study things. How to read and-"

"You have a writing system?"

"Of _course_ we do," Tweek frowned, visibly offended by the notion.

Craig realized he had gone back to the negative stereotypes again. "I'm sorry, I...I didn't-"

Tweek sighed, "It's fine. I know by now you don't mean it."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Tweek too began to eat some of the dried fruit.

"Say Tweek," Craig finally broke the silence, "How many languages can you speak, anyway?"

"Oh, a few. Barbarians have a few dialects which can be tricky to understand, but I am good at them all. I know a few Elven languages, particularly High Elven. Studying the gnome's language-and by extension, yours-was more of a hobby."

"That's impressive. I don't think most people in Kupa know more than one. Knowing Elvish is gonna be real useful to us especially."

"Thanks," he gave a slight smile.

"Is it normal for Barbarians to know a lot of languages?"

Tweek looked away quickly and abruptly. "No," he replied softly towards the cave floor.

It was clear that hit a nerve somehow. It felt somewhat odd to Craig that of all things, that was something to be cagey about, but he decided he wasn't going to push it further. Instead, he shoved the rest of the dried fruit into his mouth.

"Alright, let's go," he said standing up, still chewing the remnants of his breakfast.

"Sure," Tweek gave a fake smile as he stood up himself. He reached for Craig's cloak that had fallen on the floor.

"It's still gonna be cold, so use it," Craig told him.

"O-Okay," Tweek nodded, wrapping it around his shoulders, "Thank you."

"Don't want you to freeze to death."

Tweek's eyes grew big. "Right."

The two began walking to the cave exit. "Thanks for the breakfast, by the way," Craig added very awkwardly.

"Like I said, it was as a thanks."

"I just told you my name," he replied, trying to blow it off.

"I guess in a way but...Thank you for trusting me with that," Tweek said, walking ahead of him and not looking back.

They reached the edge of the cave. As Tweek had claimed, it wasn't snowing anymore, though there was a thick amount of it on the ground, reaching halfway up his knees. It had clearly snowed hard last night. The brisk breeze wasn't blowing as hard as it could be thankfully, but there was no denying that trying to trek through that deep of snow was going to make for a long and hard day.

"It's deep. Do you think it'll be okay for us to go through? With snow like this we can't see the trail well," Tweek brought up.

"Don't worry," Craig replied, turning around towards Tweek.

"Alright. I trust you." He had a small smile while his big blue eyes sparkled in the sunlight. The body paint on his face was fading and chipping away considerably, and his cheeks and nose were bright pink from the cold, yet somehow he looked. Well, as he had thought when he first met him... _attractive_? Objectively speaking, of course. Maybe _innocent_ would be the better word? It was hard for him to put into words.

Regardless, it put an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of Craig's stomach.

"Alright, let's get going then," he nodded, trying his best to ignore it.

" _He's going to hate you."_

Clyde's words from last night echoed in his head.

" _Kill him."_

There was no way he could kill Tweek. Not now, after all they had been through.

Yes, Tweek was going to hate him. He was going to betray him. Tweek was going to be incredibly hurt by it all. Tweek thought now that Craig was opening up to him, being honest, but in reality Craig was holding back an incredibly dark secret.

He was going to ruin all of Zaron, from the perspective of most people. He was going to help cast darkness, do things that would destroy civilizations. The powerful would fall, chaos would ensue, Clyde would become Dark Lord of everything.

Clyde and him were justified in their plans anyway, right? They both lost everything. They were going to stop the evil that controlled Zaron. They were going to show them karma. The high and mighty _deserved_ to suffer for all their actions and, in other cases, inaction. Serfdoms and thinly veiled slavery would no longer exist, right? Sure, they would do a lot of bad, but they were at least _self aware_ of it, unlike the nobility of today who painted themselves as just beings.

He had accepted his role as a "bad guy" a long time ago. Clyde had always assured him that he was heartless, that none of this would be an issue to him. They lied, they stole, they murdered someone-all of which were _justified_ , weren't they?

Yet he knew no normal person like Tweek would understand. How could _anyone_ but someone who lived a life like Clyde or him be expected to? The way Craig was born with powers he didn't ask for that made him too dangerous to live in the eyes of Kupa. The way Clyde was going to be killed for being born to the wrong kingdom. They way they lived in extreme, oppressive poverty. The way their families were both brutally murdered. The way they were left starving on filthy streets while those would _could_ have helped them _didn't_.

Could anyone blame them for wanting to turn Zaron on its head?

Well, yes. Yes they could. Yes they _will_.

Tweek won't understand the justification. He'll just see the all-encompassing darkness. He'll just see a world that he thinks is worth saving as is being torn apart. He wants peace. He thinks that getting the Wizard, the High Elf King, and his own tribes to get along will save everything. Tweek is an innocent idealist, and given his probably average Barbarian life, he couldn't really blame him.

Despite all of this, it couldn't change what he was going to do. He didn't _want_ to betray Tweek, but he _couldn't_ betray Clyde.

"Are you alright?" Tweek broke his train of thought.

"Huh?" Craig blinked, "Yeah, I am. Why?"

"You just looked in a daze," Tweek explained, "In this cold, I was hoping you weren't about to pass out."

"Says the person who isn't even wearing a shirt."

Tweek frowned. "I can handle cold better. I told you this."

"You almost died of hypothermia."

"What?" he asked, tilting his head. Another word he didn't know.

"You almost _got-too-cold_ - _to-death_."

"I said thank you for the cloak," Tweek frowned even more, furrowing his brows.

"And I've told _you_ I don't mind," Craig rolled his eyes, "Like I said, I happen to not want you to die on me."

Tweek sighed and unreadable sigh. Craig hoped it wasn't out of irritation.

"To answer your original question, I was just thinking," Craig decided to deflate the situation, "I'm fine. I can tell by the sun's position we're going the right way."

"Good."

"But uh...thanks for the...concern...I guess," he managed. He immediately cringed at the awkwardness.

"You're welcome?" Tweek answered, light humor in his voice. Craig frowned. He didn't need to rub his awkwardness in his face.

"I told you before, I'm not good at this people person stuff," he scowled.

Tweek laughed. "Believe me, I don't mind. It's...endearing."

He could tell his face was getting red as his frown grew. He hoped it was from the cold.

Thankfully it didn't snow for the rest of the day and despite the thickness of the snow, they were able to pass with relative ease remaining on the right path. They were headed downwards, so besides having to worry about slipping, the snow gradually got lesser and lesser as they went down. They didn't find a cave to sleep that night, but they were able to build a fire. It was cold, but they managed.

From there, it was all easier. The snow on the ground was just a mild dusting that was far less slippery and easier to pass through.

"We don't have any more ridges to pass, so it shouldn't be worse than this," Craig announced

"Good," Tweek let out a sigh of relief. Craig couldn't help but smirk.

As they traversed across lower elevation sections of the mountains, Craig was reminded of the start of their mountain trek. Far more peaceful, not to mention beautiful. Large evergreen trees, rivers and streams that ran in between the mountains that gave off a soothing running noise, and the view of the range in the background that could be fully appreciated no longer having to worry about falling thousands of feet down with a single step.

"Besides the cold mountain tops, I actually think I like mountains," Tweek exclaimed suddenly, as if reading Craig's mind.

"The mountain ridges were pretty awful."

"I said _'besides'_."

"Right."

Tweek rolled his eyes.

"I mean you're right," Craig forced out, "It-They _are_ nice. I guess."

Tweek chuckled. Craig felt himself growing red again. He couldn't blame frigid temperatures this time.

And so they continued to walk on a couple more days. They went long periods without saying anything, but gradually over the extended time they had been together, it felt more natural. Not out of distaste for one another or any sort of awkwardness, but simply that they didn't have much to say. Tweek would always say something every once in a while, being the far more conversational one of the pair, and answering him felt like far less of a chore.

They set up the next night by a small stream. Tweek caught a few fish while Craig set up the fire. They had noticed that there wasn't much wildlife on these mountains, so they should be perfectly safe out in the open.

"We're not far now, are we?" Tweek asked as he came back with a few fish he speared with his arrows. Craig's cloak that hung around him was wet on the ends from the stream and it was even more apparent that his body paint was fading.

"Nope," Craig answered as he handed over some sticks he sharpened to heat the fish over the fire, "Only a day or two more if what we were told was right."

"Alright," Tweek plopped himself down and speared a fish, putting it over the fire.

"We're going to be in elven territory."

"Are you nervous?" Tweek asked.

"I think it's something we have to talk about," Craig replied as he put his own fish over the fire.

"Right," Tweek nodded, scooting more comfortably on the ground, "You're the one with the papers, but I'm the one with better relations with them. I also presume my Elvish is better than yours."

"They taught me some before I left, but I probably forgot it all."

Tweek chuckled. "Alright, I'll handle that. Though I'm sure higher ups probably speak Kupa's language pretty well...considering."

"Hopefully."

"Of course, we'll have to go through a lot of other elven territory before we reach the High Elf Kingdom. They're about as friendly to the High Elves as...well, Kupa and the Barbarians."

"We've made it this far, I doubt we'll get killed by a Drow Elf asshole at this point," Craig shrugged as he idly spun his fish over the fire.

"We should still be careful."

"Of course. We'll lay low and try to avoid them. I'm being optimistic, not careless."

"I know," Tweek said as he pulled his Fish away from the fire and blew off the smoke. "I...I think we'll be fine, too. We'll make it to the High Elves. But then what?"

"That's the big question, isn't it?"

Craig had no idea _exactly_ what would happen. He knew at some point he had to steal the stick, but he knew it wasn't going to happen right away. He would have to play the part of a diplomat along with Tweek and only after he got enough information about the whereabouts and security could he even _think_ about stealing it.

"I guess, we'll try to find peace. Between our three homelands," Tweek said softly as he nibbled at his fish, "We'll make an arrangement to have prosperity between us all. And then…"

"We'll be on our ways?"

"Yeah...I guess so," Tweek's fire lit expression fell.

"It kind of has to be that way," Craig found his tone growing uncharacteristically soft, "You have to go back to your people, I have to go off to my kingdom and help Clyde."

"I know."

"Even if there's perfect peace between us...we kind of live in completely separate worlds. I doubt my kingdom would...you know, like me being buddy-buddy with a Barbarian. I'm sure the same is true for yours."

He wasn't completely lying. But even if he was, as much as he had grown to like Tweek, he needed to let this be clear ahead of time. When he did what he needed to do it would...hurt less this way. For both of them.

"You said you wanted to leave Kupa."

"I don't want to become a Barbarian. No offense."

"I didn't think you would. But…" he trailed off and looked to the sky.

Craig ate his fish. He let it burn a little too much, but it was alright nonetheless. When he was finished, he tossed the stick and bone remnants to the side. With a yawn, he laid back.

"The stars are beautiful, huh?" Tweek commented, slowly laying on the ground himself. There weren't too many trees, so the sky was quite visible. There were millions of stars twinkling in the sky.

"Yeah," he agreed, "Reminds me of my old village."

"The sky isn't really visible in my forest with how dense it is," Tweek sighed, "We can't really see the stars."

"You can't in Kupa City, either," Craig yawned, "Or well, not that many. Too many fires constantly burning, too many lights in buildings. That sorta thing. I missed stars."

"I wonder if you can see them in elven territory."

"I guess we'll find out soon," Craig replied, his eyes growing heavy.

"Oh!" Tweek sat up abruptly, causing Craig to open his eyes. "It's not cold anymore. I should give you back your cloak. You can use it as a blanket."

"Nah," he yawned even louder, "It's all wet now. Later is fine."

"A-Alright," Tweek lowered himself back down to the ground.

The fire crackled, though it was slowly growing dimmer and dimmer. Craig could tell through his eyelids.

"Hey Craig," Tweek called out right as he was about to fall asleep.

"What?" Craig responded, sounding more annoyed than he meant due to his exhaustion.

"I'm sorry, you can go to slee-"

"It's fine, just say it," Craig rubbed his eyes with his palms.

"Alright," Tweek replied quietly. He paused a moment, the crackling of the dim fire and rushing stream being the only things that prevented silence. "You know...say _if_ you weren't from Kupa and I weren't a Barbarian...say that it didn't matter. Would you...would you want to still be friends after all of this was over?"

"Of course," Craig yawned, rolling over to his side, "Don't ask dumb questions."

With that, exhaustion overcame him and he fell asleep.


	18. Chapter 15

Craig awoke just as sunrise began to peak through the mountain range. As it was getting deeper into fall, he knew it wasn't exactly early. Tweek was still asleep, softly breathing as he clutched Craig's cape tightly. He looked very peaceful, but at the same time Craig was anxious to get going.

He wasn't entirely sure the logic behind him wanting to reach elven territory so quickly. Besides the dangerousness and steepness of the snowy mountain ridge, the mountains were pretty nice. Peaceful, even. It was easy to not think about Clyde or what he planned to do.

He also dreaded meeting the elves. Afterall, they were the ones who slaughtered his village, his family. He wasn't entirely sure how he would handle it.

Yet at the same time, he wanted to get going. Perhaps it was that he wanted to quickly get it over with. Like quickly pulling out a painful splinter.

"Tweek," he gently shook his shoulder. Tweek shifted in his sleep slightly and slowly opened his bright blue eyes.

"Morning," he blinked tiredly, "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just wanna get going early. Hoping to reach elven territory today."

"Right," Tweek replied with a slight yawn. He sat up and stretched his shoulders. Craig looked at him closely.

"Your body paint is wearing off."

Tweek straightened up and looked to his chest. The lines that crossed his torso were faded, with some parts actively chipping away.

"I ran out," he frowned, "I could always make more back in my forest, but here...I can't."

"I don't mind." He always thought he looked a lot better without.

"I _do,_ " Tweek furrowed his brows.

"What does it mean, anyway?" Craig asked, ignoring his irritated tone, "Do all of you have it?"

"Basically, yes," Tweek's frown faded, "They mean different things. Specific families, status, those sorts of things."

"And your snakey lines mean?"

"It...It doesn't matter," Tweek furrowed his brows again, looking away.

"Alright," Craig shrugged. He was mainly being polite in asking, anyway. He reached for one of the fish they had cooked and set aside for breakfast and took a bite. It was cold and crunchy, but tasted alright. Tweek hesitantly reached for one as well.

"I'm going to miss these mountains," Tweek pondered as he nibbled at his fish.

"They are nice...from here."

"Barbarians...we're not _originally_ from Lost Forest, you know," Tweek sighed, "As much as it is _now_ home and all we know...it really doesn't suit us much."

"I always thought the craziness of that forest was _why_ you were barbarians."

"No!" Tweek put down his fish, "Many of us were nomads, but others had more permanent settlements with farms and bathhouses not unlike you. We were everywhere in Zaron, but tended to live in more open spaces, especially on mountains and clifflands-"

"I did know you guys liked cliffs."

"-We tended to like _open_ spaces, which were far more conducive for battle and training. We had horses and rejected magic as a weak fallback that took away from brute training and honor. Not in a 'kill all the magic users' like Kupa, but we viewed physical battle and ability as the most important."

"I'm guessing a similar situation as with the gnomes? People decided to force you into a single area? Probably the Wizard?"

"Yes," Tweek sighed, "Though not just Kupa."

"You seemed to defend the forest a lot back when we were there."

"Because it _is_ home now," he replied, "And I don't hate it. Most of us don't. We adapted well. It's just...being here, I can see just _why_ my ancestors preferred this sort of terrain."

"Zaron is a pretty messed up place, I guess."

"I think there's good in it too, though," Tweek said looking down.

"You're nothing like the barbarian stereotypes, you know. And don't pull a 'we're not a hivemind.'"

"I guess I should admit...Although we're not like your stereotypes, I guess I am sort of odd for my kind."

"That's okay," Craig said standing up, "So am I."

Tweek smiled, placing his hands on his knees and standing up. "Let's get going."

They began walking through the valleys of the mountains. It was very peaceful, so he tried to take it in knowing that very soon things would be changing. There wasn't much wildlife outside of the fish in the rivers, but the birds chirped and the cool breeze wasn't totally oppressively cold yet.

"As wintery as it seemed up on top of the mountains, it's still not that deep into autumn," Craig noted. The trees were all evergreen, so it was hard to gauge without the changing color of leaves.

"I see," Tweek replied.

"With all the magic shit, do you really have seasons?" Craig asked.

"Somewhat. Not as extreme, but we get light snow sometimes."

"I wonder if the elven forest is similar."

"I think their magic keeps extreme temperatures and weather patterns out...but they still have them, yes."

"Interesting."

Tweek was silent for a moment before speaking once more. "You know...when we first met you blew off any information like that I tried to give you. Now you seem to have more of an interest."

Craig was thrown off, unable to respond. He guessed that was true. He did initially blow off Tweek any time he tried to mention anything about himself or his people.

"I mean that in a good way," Tweek added after Craig didn't respond.

"I guess," Craig shrugged looking down as he continued walking.

"You guess?" Tweek raised an eyebrow as he looked over to him.

Something about this conversation grew incredibly uncomfortable to Craig, hitting him in the bottom of his stomach. Was it the fact that Tweek was calling him out on being less rude towards him? Was it that he _had_ changed, from not caring to finding it mildly interesting? Was it that his opinion of Tweek had changed so much? He really didn't know, but as someone who was bad at serious emotions he'd rather not think about it than try and figure it out.

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot," Tweek insisted quickly, sensing the mood from Craig's mannerisms, "I just-"

"It's fine," Craig cut him off, "I guess...sorry for being such a dick early on. I didn't know you."

Tweek's eyes widened, surprised by that response. "I-It's fine," he insisted, "I wasn't exactly very nice all the time either. Or understanding."

Craig didn't know how to respond to that. Tweek merely flashed a slight smile and they continued walking. Craig tried to clear his mind, but he couldn't.

It was odd how much his opinions on Tweek changed. Sure, when he first met Clyde he thought he was kind of embarrassing and useless, but from the beginning he deep down wanted to have someone to get along with in his village, even if he didn't want to admit it to himself at the time. But with Tweek...with Tweek he wanted nothing more than to get rid of him. He was a nuisance, talked too much, overly naggy…

Perhaps he was still those things. He did complicate the mission. He did want to talk way more than Craig did. He did still nag him and get offended over little things Craig meant nothing by. Yet at the same time, they didn't really bother him as much. Whenever he droned on too long, Craig would often find himself absentmindedly listening as opposed to wanting to scoop his ears out. When he said something wrong, he'd find himself apologizing as opposed to throwing it back on him.

Craig looked over to him. Maybe he got used to him. Craig knew for sure that he meant well and didn't have a bad bone in his body. There was a sweetness to him that once you picked up on was pretty hard to hate, even from someone without _any_ sweetness like Craig.

Perhaps he was lonely. Of course, he didn't want to admit that. He liked to think of himself as someone who didn't need anyone. It fit with the thief lifestyle, anyway. Clyde was the exception, not the rule.

He already knew that was a lie for years now, though. He knew he wanted human connections with people. He just lacked the ability and focused all his efforts towards one person for so long that he didn't even know where to start. When others like Bebe or Red actually tried, he'd push them away out of fear. He had been physically involved with a few people over the years in very short term situations, but he never allowed any of it to get personal or emotional. Clyde would laugh that he was afraid of falling in love. Craig had shoved him, saying that he merely wasn't interested in that. He didn't need anyone like that.

But perhaps he did. Maybe he didn't need to fall _in love_ per se, but perhaps he did need more than one friendship in his life. Especially on a long journey like this away from even Clyde. Tweek had been someone who had helped him through it and offered him companionship.

He really did like Tweek. A lot.

And yet Tweek was probably the one person he was going to hurt the most.

"Hey," Tweek stopped in his tracks, putting an arm out in front of Craig.

"Hm?"

"Look," he gestured out in front of them. They were rather high up, but in front of them was an incredibly open view of the mountain landscape. However, far off towards the horizon, there was a long and wide river. On the other side of it was flat, with a forest of many trees. Not a coniferous forest of evergreen trees like were sparsely throughout the mountain. Rather, a temperate forest with brightly colored autumn leaves of every shade of orange, yellow, and red.

"That must be it," Craig responded, "Still far, but I think we can easily reach it before sundown."

"Right," Tweek nodded nervously.

"Let's go then," Craig started again. Tweek quickly let out a grunt of agreement and quickly rushed to follow his pace.

As Craig had said, it was still relatively far. Of course, knowing that he was going to approach elven territory got his mind off of Tweek quite a bit. Of course, logistically speaking, how they would deal with everything once they were there. However, the closer he got the more he was concerned about how he would _emotionally_ deal with it. Afterall, they were the ones who killed his family. He was pretty hard to phase, but how would he handle dealing with possibly seeing the ones who sent the flaming arrows that flew down that fateful day.

"Craig?" Tweek interrupted his thoughts.

"Huh?" Craig blinked, shaking his head.

"Are you alright?" he asked, "You seem troubled."

"I-I'm alright."

"Worried?"

"No, of course not," Craig frowned.

"It's normal to be worried."

"I'm _not-"_

"That's what you told me when we left the Lost Forest."

"Oh," Craig stopped. "I guess I did, didn't I?"

It was very late in the afternoon when the came upon the river. The sound of it rushing was somewhat of a relief-Craig had wondered if they weren't going to reach it by that day afterall. Still nervous about what would be on the other side, but relieved nonetheless. Tweek and him gave each other a single look and nodded, going forward.

The river was wide-which what was to be expected given both what they had been told and, of course, how it had been visible from so far away. Craig could swim pretty well, but what he hadn't really thought about was just how fast the current was.

Well, he had been warned. He just hadn't taken the warnings that seriously.

Tweek went forward to touch the edge of the river and immediately retracted his hand. "It's freezing," he told him.

"I thought you're good at cold," Craig smirked.

Tweek frowned. "Be serious about this."

Craig sighed and walked to the bank of the river. He took off one of his gloves and touched the water. It was, in fact, ice cold. Like Tweek, he quickly retracted his hand. He picked up a twig on the ground and threw it as far as he could to the middle of the river. It drifted away very quickly-a fast and dangerous current.

"Do you think we can swim in that?" Tweek asked.

"No," Craig frowned, "This river is all from the melted ice and snow from the mountain. Added that the temperature is getting colder and colder, if we didn't drown from the current we'd just freeze to death."

"I guess that's another reason they don't want people to make this journey when the temperature is cooling," Tweek sighed, sitting down on the shore in defeat, "Unless we want to wait until it's really winter and it freezes over."

"And I guess a bridge between two enemy lands aren't exactly something either side would want," Craig shrugged, plopping down next to him.

"There has to be a way," Tweek sighed, "I mean it's not like others don't cross it."

"Got any ideas?" Craig looked over to him.

"We could make a boat or raft?"

"Chopping down wood with what exactly?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"I guess," Tweek sighed again, resting his hands on his chin.

"But I guess you're right," Craig put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, "People do cross it all the time. I'm sure there's a place less wide or more shallow."

Tweek looked up. "Of course. It's not like we would stop here after everything," he smiled. Craig reached his hand out to help Tweek. He took it and stood up.

"Upstream or downstream?" Craig asked.

"I can climb up a tree and try to see if one side looks better," Tweek offered.

"Alright, just don't break your neck."

"Of course not," Tweek laughed, "I could climb trees in my sleep."

Of course he could, Craig mentally agreed. He remembered just how quickly and carelessly he was able to climb up the questionable ladder in the gnome tree.

With that, Tweek walked over to a particularly tall tree. He took off the strap around his torso that held the bow and arrows around his back and took it off to use it to wrap around the tree to pull himself up. As he got into position, he very quickly scaled the tree.

The sun was right in the direction of Tweek, so Craig had to put a hand up to look at him. It was quite impressive to Craig to see him scaling the tree with the beams of the late afternoon sun directly shining on him. Craig couldn't help but smile.

Tweek reached the high branches, (so high that it made it hard for Craig to still see him clearly,) and stood up on them for a moment, looking in both directions. After looking for a short time he positioned himself back and scaled back down the tree. When he was a few feet above the ground he jumped down and fixed his strap and arrows back around him.

"So?" Craig asked.

"I think I saw what looked like a bunch of rocks downstream," he announced, "Might be able to walk across it. Or have calmer water on the other side."

"So downstream it is."

The two walked down downstream banks of the river. Tweek reminded Craig that what he saw was from quite high so it was both far and unclear. Craig was too busy paying attention to how far they were going to be able to make sure they can go back to where they were on the path. He had stuck a large stick into the ground straight up where they first started so he would know and see on the opposite side of the bank once they crossed and went back upstream where the path was.

"Okay, so you really _weren't_ kidding when you said it was far," Craig commented as he noticed the sky begin to turn orange from the beginning of sunset.

"Sorry," Tweek frowned.

"It's alright," Craig sighed, "Just hope we're almost there."

About ten minutes later, they were.

Tweek was right. There were in fact rocks going across the river.

What Tweek hadn't been able to tell from afar was that part of the "rocks" he saw were probably the white waters of the currents rushing very heavily off of them. Or just how far apart some of them are.

Tweek let out a disappointed groan. "Sorry, it looked-"

"We just gotta be careful, I guess," Craig cut him off, shrugging and walking towards the rushing currents of the river.

"We probably would have been better off trying to cross the cold water where it was calm."

"Nah," Craig shook his head, "A barbarian who can scale trees and a thief like myself can hope over these rocks."

Tweek frowned. "If we fall in-"

"We won't. Just like you didn't fall off that tree and break your neck," Craig announced.

Tweek swallowed. "Alright."

Craig went first, standing on the first rock. It was flat, but it was wet. He cursed himself for, once again, not bringing rope. The next rock was somewhat larger and a few feet away. He hopped over to it. He looked back at Tweek, still standing at the river bank. After Craig nodded to him in assurance, Tweek stepped to the rock, nearly slipping.

"Be careful, it's kind of slippery," Craig warned him, reaching out an arm to try and steady him. The distance was unfortunately too far for Craig to reach, but Tweek steadied himself anyway.

" _Now_ you tell me," he frowned. Craig rolled his eyes and continued.

Craig was pretty good at this. His shoes, despite all his walking for a long period of time still had a decent grip. He was always steady, jumping across rooftops and other dangerous, reckless things in his thieving days.

"You're too fast!" Tweek whined. Craig turned around. Tweek was quite a way behind him.

"C'mon then," Craig sighed, waiting for him where he stood. Tweek carefully and steadily hopped from rock to rock, taking much more precautions than Craig. He bit his lower lip in determination as he made each leap. "You got it," Craig assured him as he got closer. Craig reached out his arm.

Just as Tweek's fingertips brushed his they suddenly jerked away. It took a split second for Craig to realize that Tweek had slipped from his grasp.

As if he had lost all control of his movements and acted solely on instinct, with both hands he leaned forward for Tweek, reaching for him, trying to pull him up. Of course, not thinking it through, he didn't consider the small, slippery rock that he was standing on, and found as he leaned to far over his feet were slipping out from under him. Barely able to comprehend anything, the last thing he remembered was the ice cold water engulfing the both of them.

" _Craig, stop climbing on those rocks!" his father scolded, "One of these days you're going to slip off and drown."_

" _I can swim," Craig furrowed his brows, not looking back at him. There was a reason why he always preferred coming to the stream without his parents._

" _Not if you crack your head first," he scolded._

" _I'm not gonna fall!" Craig responded even more defiantly._

" _I'm serious Craig! Those rocks aren't stable and you're going to break your neck. If you don't get down_ right _now, I'm taking you back to the village," he practically yelled, clearly getting more and more serious. Craig sighed and walked back towards the banks. As annoying as his father was acting, it wasn't worth getting him angry._

"Craig!"

" _I'm coming!"_ Craig rolled his eyes.

"Craig, answer me!" the voice called out more frantically, "Are you alright?"

The voice didn't really sound like his father.

"Craig _please_ wake up."

The voice sounded sad.

"Craig I-"

Craig opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. His vision turned red and there was and his head pounded in pain as he coughed up water.

"Craig!" the voice-Tweek cried out, wrapping his arms around him in a hug from where he laid on the banks of the river, "I was so worried!"

Oh right. He had just fallen into a river, hadn't he? Tweek must have pulled them both out. Still, the tight grip on him now when everything felt sore wasn't exactly helping.

"Tweek, that hurts."

"Oh sorry!" Tweek jumped, immediately loosening his grip. Craig did his best to sit up, rubbing his eyes before opening them once more. The world was still spinning, but it was more clear than before. They were sitting at the side of the river, the rushing rapids still raging on.

"You pulled us out?" Craig managed to ask.

"Yes," Tweek nodded, "You hit your head on a rock, but I managed to avoid everything and use them to pull us out." So _that's_ why his head pounded. He felt around his skull. He didn't feel any blood or abrasions. It hurt, but he didn't feel particularly dizzy or nauseous, so he was going to hope he didn't have a concussion.

"I guess you saved me again. After I said we wouldn't fall in."

"Only because you were trying to save me," Tweek told him.

"I guess," Craig sighed. He stood up, a bit weak on his knees and still freezing from the frigid waters, but fine otherwise. "Let's get going."

"Why don't we sleep here? You just got hurt and it's already dusk."

"I'm fine."

"No," Tweek frowned, "We're staying here. I decided."

Craig blinked. "Excuse me?"

"You're still not well, all of our things are soaking wet, and it's already getting dark. We're going to stay right here."

Tweek had been pretty naggy and bossy in the past, but something about him putting his foot down like this surprised Craig. He wanted to argue and explain why they should keep going. How they're already at the elf side of the river, why would they just stop all the way out here? Why not at least find where the trail would start again? Yet for some reason, he found himself only letting out an exasperated sigh as he sat back down.

"Alright, but first thing tomorrow we're going, okay?"

"Okay," Tweek grinned.


	19. Chapter 16

" _Elves are_ all _magic, aren't they?" Craig asked his mother._

" _They are," she replied as she picked leaves out of his hair. He had been down to the river today and played in the bushes. It was fun, but he came back an absolute mess to his mother's dismay. Craig laid against her as she did it, the bump of her very pregnant belly far more awkward to lean on than his mother had been in the past._

" _Are they allowed to use it?"_

 _His mother didn't answer right away. "They can."_

" _Then how come I'm not supposed to?"_

 _His mother's hands froze. After a few seconds, she put them on her son's shoulder and turned him around and looked him in the face._

" _Elves...they're different from us," she carefully chose her words, "Cows and chickens aren't the same, are they?"_

 _"No," Craig shook his head, "Cows don't lay eggs."_

" _Right," she nodded, tapping his nose, "In the same way, elves and humans are different. They have their own rules, their own lifestyles."_

" _That makes sense," he nodded, "Dad said we fight in wars with them a lot."_

" _Your father is correct," she nodded, "We do. Their High Queen and our...well, our leaders in Kupa don't really get along."_

" _Are elves bad?"_

 _His mother bit her lip as she thought for a moment more._

" _Are all humans good or bad?"_

" _Nope," he shook his head quickly._

" _Well then, I'd like to think elves are the same way."_

"Here we are," Craig announced. Though the announcement was not so much to Tweek as it was to himself.

"Yes," Tweek nodded.

As they had planned, they had woken up at the first sign of daybreak. They had quickly scuttered around to get ready, and headed back upstream to try and find the path from which they strayed. Craig had worried that the stick he had placed in the ground didn't fall over overnight, making it difficult to find their way back on the path. Nevertheless, they eventually found it as they left it, sticking straight up on the other side of the river bank.

"Are you alright?" Tweek asked, looking over to him with his wide, sympathetic blue eyes.

"Y-Yeah," Craig stuttered. He only then realized that he was far tenser than he thought.

"I'm sure we'll be fine, you know," Tweek tried to reassure him.

"Of course," he nodded stiffly and unnaturally.

The forest, at least from the bank of the river, didn't look any different from the forest on the other side. The same type of trees changing into the same autumn colors. The chilly breeze felt the same. Just standing near it didn't emit the same amount of eeriness that the Lost Forest did.

Yet this forest scared him far more.

On the other hand, it was quite odd how easy the act of going into the Elven Forest seemingly was. The Lost Forest had guards on the borders along any path, preventing your average traveler from going in or out. Yet the only thing that separated a human kingdom and this land were the vast natural mountain range and a river. Perhaps that was considered enough to deter travelers? Craig doubted it.

"There are guards preventing Barbarians, Gnomes, and other beings from leaving the Lost Forest," Tweek said, clearly thinking the same thing he was.

"To be fair, I think on Kupa's part it's every bit as much to keep us in as well."

"Not to try to downplay what you go through, but that is your kingdom inflicting it upon itself. Other nations also strictly guard the borders of the forest that _don't_ have the same rules towards their own people."

"Don't you know a lot about Zaron's varying politics?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"Anyone would, compared to you," Tweek frowned.

"I'm not sure about that," Craig scowled.

"Whatever," Tweek rolled his eyes, "Let's ...Let's just go in already." His voice faltered.

"Right," Craig swallowed, brought back to the reality of the situation.

The Elven Forest. They had to go into that. Tweek reached for his hand and for once Craig didn't feel the impulse to pull away. The two of them locked eyes for a moment before simultaneously giving each other a single nod.

Into the forest they went.

As it had looked from the bank of the river the forest...seemed to be a simple forest. From _appearances_ , anyway. The trees were ordinary. Even if they weren't the type that would grow among the bank of his stream back home, they wouldn't have been out of place there all the less. It was fairly dense, but less dense than the Lost Forest, with far more sunlight seeping through the canopy to the forest that began to collect colorful autumn leaves that had begun to fall. There were also flowers and mosses growing on the ground and on the sides of trees. Ones he had never seen, but not other worldly.

In terms of _feeling_ however, it absolutely was not "ordinary". To a degree, it seemed to be parallel to the odd feeling he felt in the Lost Forest, but this was quite different. No dark feeling where he felt like he could fall away into a trance by untrustworthy energies if he kept his guard down. Instead, the aura of this forest felt oddly...welcoming? Like warm sunlight wrapping around him, inviting him in.

It was almost enough to distract him from how singed his nerves were. Almost.

"Still no guards," Tweek noted, gently pulling his hand away.

"I don't like this," Craig shook his head slowly, instinctively bringing the hand Tweek let go of to his mother's necklace.

"Me neither," Tweek bit his lip, "It's almost like...well…"

"A trap?"

"Maybe," he sighed.

"It's still not too late for you to turn around, you know," Craig reminded him gently.

"And do what?" Tweek narrowed his eyes annoyedly, "Freeze to death on the side of the mountain?"

"I thought you couldn't freeze," Craig smirked.

"Let's go," Tweek groaned, starting to go down the path without waiting for him.

The path in front of them was very clearly made out and oddly inviting. It was a soft, smooth brown dirt path clear of rocks or vines. The soil was soft, making it very easy to walk upon for his worn out feet. The sides of it were aligned in grass and autumn wildflowers flowers. Craig paused and analyzed this for a moment before scurrying after Tweek.

"This territory right here," Craig asked in a quiet voice when he caught up to Tweek, "Is it High Elf territory?"

"No," Tweek shook his head, "This is unincorporated Wood Elf territory. They're nomadic people who share a lot of similarities with barbarians except-"

"I thought the Drow Elves were their barbarians."

"Drow Elves are more like orcs or the Dark Kingdom, if you have to make a comparison," Tweek frowned, "Though you're not wrong that they're similar to Wood Elves. Though while Drow Elves are fiercely independent and hate anyone outside of their own kind, Wood Elves have good relations with most other elven groups. I was _going_ to say that that was what makes them the most different from us Barbarians, who don't get along with anyone."

"I dunno, you make Drow Elves sound a lot like Barbarians."

"We're nothing like them!" Tweek scowled, his voice louder in anger than he intended.

"Alright," Craig rolled his eyes.

"But...there are many elves," Tweek went on, his tone of voice calming down, "Even us Barbarians like to group them together as High and Drow, so I can only imagine that in Kupa they are just as simplified if not more. In the same way Human territories have many different kingdoms and groups, the elves do as well. The Wood, Drow, Wild Elves...not to mention the High Elf Kingdom historically rivaled in influence and power with the Sun Kingdom."

"I don't really give a damn as long as we accomplish what we came to do," Craig reminded him. He probably learned a lot of this when he was briefed back in Kupa City, but he didn't care then and he didn't care now.

Plus on principle, the idea of learning about _their_ culture made him sick.

"Of course you don't," Tweek sighed. He paused a moment before adding, "But you were the one who brought it up."

"I guess," Craig allowed, without missing a beat, "But mainly I guess I wanna know how relevant the land we're on now is to our destination and how likely the people here are to kill us."

"Somewhat related, for the prior question and," Tweek thought for a moment, "Luck for the latter."

"I don't know if I like that answer."

"I don't either," his voice fell as he looked down to the ground.

It was then that Craig looked long and hard at Tweek and his body language. His head was hung low far more than usual, but he could clearly see him chewing on his bottom lip. His arms were down by his side, but tenser than natural. His hands were balled into fists, but he twitched his thumbs through his fingers, as if nervous fidgeting.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Craig commented. Tweek didn't answer, merely sinking down into an even smaller posture. The answer was clearly yes, Craig thought to himself. He didn't know if that made him feel better or worse. On the one hand, seeing Tweek also feel discomfort made him feel less alone. On the other, his lack of optimism didn't help to make his own lessen.

Craig tried not to think about it. To not dwell on the fact that he was in elven territory. That at any minute an elf might come out and reveal himself. It wasn't the fear of being killed by one that worried him. Nor the fear of failure.

He didn't know how his body would react to seeing an elf in person. For so long, for so many years, the mere thought of elves made him want to vomit. He didn't know what would be triggered. His fight complex? The urge to get back on those who killed his family? Or his flight complex? Would he merely go into a panic, wanting desperately to run away?

"Don't think about it," he told himself under his breath, immediately after hoping Tweek didn't hear him. Whether or not he did, he didn't acknowledge it. Instead, they walked for a few more minutes in silence, with tension that Craig felt like could be cut with a knife.

"Look!" Tweek suddenly called out, both of them stopping in their tracks.

"What?" Craig asked, beginning to instinctively reach for his blade. Tweek lightly touched his arm to stop him.

"Pixies," Tweek gestured over to the left aways. Craig blinked, relaxing somewhat as he looked to whereTweek was pointing to. Sure enough, he was right.

The pixies weren't exactly the same as the ones in the Lost Forest. Their glows were softer and less neon in color-which fit with the overall softer and more inviting feeling of this forest. They flew more gracefully and less erratically, examining the autumn flowers peeking up in the light green moss on the sides of boulders and a fallen tree.

Cautiously, Tweek walked over to them. When they first spotted him, they were quickly alarmed, flying to hide themselves behind the boulders and tree like a startled stray cat, very much unlike the Lost Forest pixies that were _overly_ gregarious. However, they slowly reached their little heads out to peek and see what was going on. Tweek laughed.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you," he said. He slowly bent down and reached out a hand towards them. The actionstartled some of them initially, causing them to hide further. However, after a few moments of him leaning down towards them, eventually a couple of them slowly emerged from their hiding spots. Slowly with his other hand, Tweek reached into his pocket and got out a little food and offered it to them. It took them a few moments, but eventually they slowly began to flap their wings and approach him. Very quickly, one grabbed the food and then retreated back in fear. Tweek laughed again.

"You really like magical creatures, don't you?" Craig asked. The pixie that grabbed the food-a bit of dried bread-brought it back on top of the stump and held it out for other pixies to gather around and examine. Slowly, they sniffed it before breaking it apart and eating it.

"Well, I do like pixies," Tweek answered, "They are very kind and childlike, I think. Even in the Lost Forest, with how dangerous and wild it is, they always manage to remain happy and playful. I think we could learn from them."

"Aren't you the philosopher?" Craig snorted.

"No," he frowned, "I don't see how-"

"I'm just teasing you."

"Right," Tweek turned pink, looking away.

After the pixies finished eating, Tweek stood up from his kneeling position and rejoined Craig. Some of the pixies followed him as if to thank him. A few flew up and handed him some flower petals as a thank you gift. With a polite nod and a soft smile, he accepted them.

"Let's go," Craig said.

"Right."

Both were too stubborn to admit it, but they were both incredibly fearful as they tried to find a place to sleep that night. They settled for a mossy area surrounded by bushes that would hopefully conceal them. They had found some berries along the way that Tweek recognized from his own forest as edible, and while it wasn't much, they were able to get by on that without using any more of the food they had stored just in case. Not that they had to conserve _too_ much-the High Elf territory was supposed to only be a couple days journey within the forest.

Craig wasn't sure how he was able to sleep at all that night. Perhaps he had forced himself into such a sense of numbness, convincing himself not to think of where he was. Perhaps it was the odd aura of the forest, forcibly keeping him calm. Of course, it still wasn't _easy_ for him to sleep. Yet, nonetheless, he eventually found himself drifting to sleep under the canopy of the forest.

They next day they had to cross Drow Elf territory. They had quite a lot of land scattered throughout Elven territory, but thankfully this was only a small, narrow arm of it that they could get across within a day. They didn't even come across a single Wood Elf the entirety of their passage through their land, so they hoped their luck would hold with the Drow Elves as well. Still, they both knew that they had to be incredibly cautious.

Craig figured the way that most elves were nomadic forest people who didn't even guard the entryway into their territory, the borders would be incredibly vague. He figured that the Drow Elf part of the forest would be exactly the same as the Wood Elf part, only they might accidentally run into a different sort of elf.

It turned out that he thought wrong.

In a blink of the eye, the oddly inviting feeling of the forest vanished completely. Instead came a feeling of utter coldness. Dread. It was still clearly autumn, but in this land the autumn was not nearly as beautiful and cozy, but instead seemed to be a reminder that the leaves and flowers were , perhaps that was it. There was an odd feeling of _death_.

"You feel that, right?" Craig asked.

"A little," Tweek answered.

"A _little_?" Craig responded, bewildered.

" _Yes_ , I feel it."

Still, that vague answer troubled Craig. Was it possible he was more affected by auras of enchanted forests than Tweek? Well, Tweek _did_ spend his whole life under the influence of the Lost Forest, a forest that's aura made him feel like he was slowly losing his sanity. He told himself it was probably that.

Even the ground felt different here, Craig noted as they walked. It was as if the dirt beneath them was somehow harder. The crunch of the dying leaves beneath them sounded less like...well, leaves, and reminded him more of the sound of bones crunching.

"I know I said I don't care," Craig said, "But I gotta admit I'm wondering. Is it the magic of the things living in forests that affect how they feel, like some sort of intentional curse way, or is the forest just...naturally like that."

"I would guess some of both. I don't really know."

"I see," he replied, looking down.

"Regardless..this place scares me," Tweek admitted.

"Yeah, I feel you there."

 _Woosh._

There was a rustling of leaves, but in too forceful a way for it to have been from the wind but not nearly fast enough to be from a small wild animal.

"Get back," Craig turned to Tweek as he reached for his blade, heart pounding heavily in his chest. Tweek was already alert, eyes wide and bow already in hand. Craig had forgotten in the split second of panic that Tweek was actually more competent in battle than he was.

"Drow Elf," Tweek whispered.

"I don't see 'em," Craig responded. His throat felt dry and his heart felt like it might come up it, but he kept his eyes on his surroundings, carefully looking for the elf. Craig and Tweek instinctually went back to back, carefully analyzing everything.

"Really?" an exasperated voice very close to them said. Tweek and Craig both jumped. From the same area, Craig heard the sound of a longsword being unsheathed. Slowly, Craig turned his head to see who it was coming from.

When he did, however, he was taken aback to realize that he was not met with the glowing yellow eyed glare of a grey skinned drow elf.

Instead, he found himself being looked upon by the very blue, very human eyes of a young man.


	20. Chapter 17

"You're not an elf," Craig said bluntly. The young man looking at him had his longsword pointed directly at him, but as seemed to be a common practice with Craig, he didn't tend to pay mind to the most important details for self preservation.

"Yeah, no shit," he rolled his eyes. The eyes were deep blue, unlike the glowing yellow or white that drow elves had. His skin was pale and evenly toned, with the exception of dark circles under his eyes. A normal skin tone for elves in general, or so he heard, but not for the grey skinned Drow Elves. Of course, the biggest dead giveaway that he was _not_ some other sort of elf was his normal, rounded human ears that poked out from under his blue hat and messy black hair.

"Then who are you?" Tweek asked.

"I should ask _you_ that," the human frowned, turning his attention to Tweek, "No one said anything about there being another one."

" _Another_ one?" Craig asked, "The hell you mean by that?"

"Listen kid, I don't actually care that much and am just following orders," he replied, lowering his blade slightly, "Honestly, I just wanna get this over with already. _So,_ if you'd just come with me without resistance or any of that the blond kid can run off back to wherever he's from and I'll be happy to pretend like I never saw him."

"Kid?" Craig found himself tensing up, "Who the fuck are you calling _kids?_ You're no older than us."

"Okay, fine. I'll call you whatever the fuck you want if you don't make this harder than it has to be."

"Who the fuck are you to order us around?" Craig quickly grabbed his own blade and pointed it back at him, "We're not gonna listen to some random asshole who probably doesn't know us. Right?" he tilted his head to Tweek.

"Um...right," Tweek nodded after a moment's pause. Craig noticed a very troubled and confused look on his face, but opted to ignore it.

"Well, you're half right," the stranger replied as he completely ignored Craig's blade being pointed at him, "I don't know who _that_ guy is, but I know exactly who _you_ are."

"Bullshit."

"C'mon, I know you're here from Kupa with a letter from that asshole wizard to bring peace. The High Elf King asked me to go fetch you because he predicted that you'd be a moron who would wander right into Drow Elf territory and get yourself killed."

"What?"

"Am I wrong?"

"Yes-"

"No," Tweek interrupted, "That's exactly why we're here, and we think that it's very kind and gracious of your King to ask for you to come out here. We really appreciate it."

"Yeah, well, he's under arrest."

"What?!" Craig and Tweek both gasped in unison.

"C'mon now, who do you take us for?" he rolled his eyes, "Do you really think for two seconds the High Elf King would buy that bullshit? That that Cartman wizard asshole would _ever_ send some convicted thief of all things for a peace treaty? Or that he'd _actually_ want peace in general?"

"Hey, fuck you! It's true!" Craig spat.

"It is, I can vouch for him!" Tweek insisted.

"You weren't supposed to be part of this," the man raised an eyebrow as he looked to Tweek, "Who are you and where are you even supposed to be from? Your accent doesn't sound like it's from Kupa."

"Yet...yours does," Tweek blinked, as if hit by a sudden realization, "You don't speak with any sort of Elvish accent at all."

"Yeah, that's right," Craig added in irritatedly, "You're just some Kupa asshole trying to start shit. Why?"

"Okay _fine_ , I was born in Kupa, but that's really not fucking relevant right now," he groaned, rolling his eyes. He pointed his blade directly at Tweek. "Who the fuck is he?"

"If you're from Kupa, then that's _really_ fucking relevant," Craig dodged the question, "How the fuck am I supposed to believe that some Kupa guy managed to get accepted into the ranks of the High Elven...whatever you are?"

"There's a lot of us, actually," he said.

"What, as canon fodder for stupid dangerous jobs like this?" Craig smirked.

"I'm the right hand man to the High Elf King, actually."

"Fuck off," Craig spat.

"Enough!" Tweek yelled out, "Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere. Feldspar underwent an incredibly dangerous and long journey from Kupa to try and bring peace. Yes, he is a thief, which I am not sure how you know, but he is one of the most genuine and honest people I have ever met."

"Well, no offense, but what are you supposed to say? That your companion is a liar?"

"No!" Tweek frowned, "But as you said, I wasn't supposed to be here. I met him when he crossed my territory and I was inspired by his quest and wanted to join him."

"And that territory is?"

"I-I'm a Barbarian."

"Wow," his blue eyes widened, "Didn't see that coming. Though I guess the lack of bodypaint does that."

"Right. So please understand when I say that-"

"Nope," he cut him off. "The High Elf Kingdom is busy with a lot of bullshit right now. We have to deal with _this_ asshole," he nudged towards Craig, "and don't have time for Barbarians to be added to the mix."

"Hey, don't be a jackass," Craig swung his blade, pointing it millimeters away from the man's neck.

"A knight's blade," he looked down at it, unflinching, "You stole it, right? Well anyway." He swung up his own sword and knocked Craig's blade out of the way, the force of this offsetting his balance. Before Craig could straighten up, the man used his free hand to grab Craig's wrist tightly and painfully, causing him to drop his blade completely.

"Hey, let him go!" Tweek cried out.

"Just scram already," the man replied exasperatedly. He quickly sheathed his sword. Craig tried to reach out with his free hand, but the man caught it before he could. He pushed Craig down to the ground chest first and put a knee on his back to prevent him from standing up as he reached for a pair of cuffs that had been tied to the back of his belt, previously concealed by his green cape.

"Hey!" Tweek tried to shove him off of Craig. The man, despite being the same approximate size as Craig, barely flinched. He finished putting on the handcuffs and once they were on he grabbed them, forcing Craig back up into a standing position.

"This is fucking stupid," Craig yelled, "You can't treat me like this!"

"Um, yeah I can," he said, "And I'm sure Kupa told you that we usually kill on sight, so really you should probably be more grateful right now."

That's right. Through the irritation of this whole encounter, Craig had forgotten about that fact completely.

"Maybe that's fair," Tweek added, "Maybe this is the best option for everyone's safety. But still, I must come with you!"

"Nah," he answered abruptly, as he started to push Craig towards a certain direction, "Now let's go uh-Feldspar is what they call you, right?"

"Yeah whatever, I'll come in handcuffs for some good faith bullshit, but you really should let him come along too."

"Does the Grand Wizard even know about him?"

"Well, no."

"Then why the fuck should I?" he scowled, "Listen, I'm just following orders. He _shouldn't_ be here and me just letting him fuck off instead of killing him for tresspassing is technically a nice move."

"You should because he...He'll just follow us anyway. Right?"

"Y-Right!" Tweek nodded, running up to quickly catch up with them, "Feldspar first tried to get rid of me, you know. I am good at breaking people down when I have to."

"He's right," Craig nodded.

He groaned loudly. "Fine, follow us if you want. I don't care anymore. Doesn't mean you'll be let in."

And so they continued onward. There were several times they strayed near Drow Elves, but the man quickly reached for a pouch and threw some powder, ordering Craig (and by extension Tweek) to stand still and be quiet.

Drow Elves did approach them, too. Their grey skin and glowing eyes made Craig's heart pound and feel like he was about to throw up. Still, they would completely pass them and go about their way, as if they didn't notice them at all.

"What was that stuff you threw?" Tweek asked.

He didn't answer.

Craig groaned. "What was that stuff you threw?" he echoed Tweek.

"Concealing powder," he explained, "Only works on other elves though, for some reason. Try to use it on a human or orc or something and they'll just look at you like you're crazy. I'll even give your friend some to protect himself if he fucks off already."

"No!" Tweek yelled, "And you'll stop disrespecting me like this!"

"Yeah, stop disrespecting him like this," Craig echoed for dramatic effect.

"This is really getting annoying," he frowned, "I forgot why I don't like dealing with most other humans."

"You said there were a lot in the High Elf Kingdom?" Tweek cut in.

"Well, not a _lot_ a lot. Few enough that I know all of them. But _they're_ cool. Mostly."

"Wait a second," Craig stopped in his tracks, "You know _all_ the humans?"

"Yep," he pushed Craig to start walking again, "Some very briefly, though. I dunno."

"Then…" Craig thought back to Lord Marsh. He didn't feel much loyalty to him and had honestly mostly forgotten about him, but he was the reason he...well, wasn't just executed in prison immediately. He was an old drunkard, but he stuck his neck out for Craig more than once, and all he asked in return was for him to try and do one thing.

"What?" he raised an eyebrow.

"I know this is a longshot that's probably really dumb," he started, "But do you happen to know of a Stanley Marsh?

The man stopped, his grip on Craig's cuffed arms tightening instinctually. "Where'd you hear that name from?" he asked, turning Craig around to look him directly in the eyes.

"Well, _everyone_ in Kupa City knows that name, dude," Craig said, "Prominent noble's son gets murdered on a peace mission? There's been conspiracies about that for years now."

"Really?" he asked, eyes widening.

"Yeah," Craig answered defensively, "I dunno if it's some sour spot for you elf-aligned assholes, but Lord Marsh was kinda this guy who stuck his neck out for me a lot over the years, including getting me this job instead of having me hanged or whatever."

"What about him?"

"I dunno, he was always convinced that his son wasn't killed. Since you said you know all the humans here, thought maybe it'd be nice to ask."

"Ask what?" he tilted his head.

"If he's alive, obviously," Craig frowned, annoyed at his obliviousness.

The man turned back around and started walking again. Tweek ran to catch up to them and shot Craig a confused look, but otherwise said nothing.

"Yeah, he's alive," the man finally responded.

"Huh," Craig pondered, "I guess that old drunk was right aftera-"

"I'm him."

" _Really?"_ Craig's eyes widened.

"Yeah."

"Well uh...shit," Craig answered, "I really don't know what to say. Your family misses you a lot. Except maybe your sister, but she's kind of a huge bitch and you're not missing much. But your mom and dad they-"

"Don't really care."

"Well _that's_ fucking callous."

"I was a little kid when I got separated," the Marsh kid answered, " _This_ is the life I'm attached to now. Got a pretty sweet deal here, and don't really wanna give it up to go back to that hellhole excuse of a kingdom for people I barely remember."

"Wow you're _really_ an asshole."

"Cr-Feldspar, stop," Tweek shook his head at him, shooting him a warning glare.

"God, kid, can you just _fuck off_ already?" the Marsh kid's hands balled into fists, "This is supposed to be some boring retrieval mission, I don't need to be strung into stupid fucking drama, okay?"

"You have _no right_ to talk to me like that!" Tweek yelled back.

"Actually, yeah, I do."

"No you don't, what is it...Mr. Marsh?"

"Stan Marsh. Stan is fine."

"Alright _Stan Marsh_ , I'll tell you one more time. You are going to let me come with you to the High Elf Kingdom. You are going to treat Feldspar and me like proper guests. If you don't, you are going to find yourself in more trouble than you want."

"Wow," Craig said under his breath. He had seen Tweek be bossy, but never _that_ authoritative.

"No, I'm not," Stan rolled his eyes, "And also I thought you were fine with me having him in handcuffs? Why do you think you can demand more now?"

"I-" Tweek looked to Craig long and hard before looking back to Stan, "You have no idea who you're dealing with."

"Well, technically you _are_ right there. Still got no idea who you are."

Tweek took a deep breath, "Then maybe you should so you can reconsider."

"Really don't think so, but go ahead," Stan sighed.

Tweek looked long and hard at Craig again, his mouth twitching open and shut several times.

"C'mon, I don't have all day."

"I'm…"

"You're?"

"I...I'm Prince Tweek Tweak, future King of the United Barbarian Tribes…"

Stan stopped. "What did you just say?"

"U-Under the order of the Hyaz Treaty...I ask-no _order_ you to take me and my friend to the High Elf King."

"Goddammit. God _dammit,_ " Stan groaned loudly, "Just-Just... _Come on_."


	21. Chapter 18

"We're close now," Stan said, motioning to the torches. Intricate torches with elegantly carved designs. The designs were very much line with high elven art Craig had briefly seen throughout the years. But that wasn't what bothered him.

What bothered him was the fire.

Red, blue, green, yellow, pink. Unnaturally pigmented flames that lit up the path, letting out a soft glow of their respective color. Objectively, the flames were very beautiful. But to Craig, it was a reminder of how _hideous_ this kingdom really was.

In his mind he saw flaming arrows bursting out of the sky like a blanket down upon his village. Magical, inextinguishable fire that overcame all that Craig ever knew.

He remembered his mother shoving him away, handing him her necklace. She was going to rescue his sister, she told him. Why did she do that? She had to have known that the fire was magically designed to be impossible to escape. Tricia was probably already- She should have gone with Craig and Clyde, not leaving two boys who were practically still children to fend for themselves. She should have stayed and taken care of them. If she hadn't died than maybe none of this would have-

"Hey, you alright?" Stan's voice interrupted Craig's thoughts.

"I-" he started, unable to form a proper sentence.

"You're looking a little green there," he commented, "Are you sick?"

"N-No," he shook his head after a moment's pause. Tweek's bright blue eyes wordlessly flashed him a look of sympathy.

Craig tried to take in a deep breath. He had to do this. He had come this far, hadn't he? As much as he could feel every hair on his body stand up, he had to get ahold of himself.

The torch lit path started out as a vaguely flat and cleared away trail of soft moss, but ever so gradually it became more and more distinguished. After a while, the moss became more and more flat, as if it was intentionally paved and kept to be a neat walkway. A while after, the moss slowly began to let up, showing a true paved stone pathway beneath it that, just like the torches, carved intricately with the elegant High Elven art aesthetic. Although it was easier to walk on than the natural, ragged ground of the forest, his legs seemed to instinctively reject it. Perhaps it was for the better that it was agreed that Craig would keep his handcuffs on, forcing him to go forward.

"You can calm down, we're not going to kill you," Stan told Craig as his anxieties grew more and more outwardly visible by the moment, "Not unless you give us reason to."

"Why are you loyal to the elves?" Craig blurted out, "You're from Kupa. You said you're the king's right hand man. Then you know all the stuff that-"

"All the stuff Kupa has done?" Stan cut him off.

"Don't screw around," Craig frowned, "I hate Kupa too, but the High Elf Kingdom has wrecked a whole lotta havoc on the good, innocent people. You're just... _okay_ with joining the kingdom that did all that?"

"You think Kupa didn't retaliate against _innocent elves_?" Stan raised an eyebrow.

Tweek stood between them. "Let's not figh-"

Craig ignored him. "Still, Kupa...they're your own people!"

"Not anymore."

Craig groaned. He decided to give up. Stan Marsh proved to be incredibly hard headed and even if he hadn't known him long, he figured he was the stubborn type that was impossible to get through to. Yet even still, something about him pissed him off on an indescribable level.

He sighed. As much as he hated the elves, he knew Stan's betrayal to them wasn't entirely it. Sure, _part_ of it, but he didn't want to admit to himself what the larger part was. If he admitted that they were-

No, they were nothing alike. Sure they were both humans with black hair and somewhat tall in stature. They both got separated from their home and family from a young age. They both gave up their old identities to assume a new one in a new place. They were both willing to go against Kupa, joining a king in order to-

No, they weren't the same. Craig's situation was _entirely_ different. Stan could go back to Kupa-to his family-if he wanted to. He probably had a very privileged life in both kingdoms. Craig on the other hand _only_ had hardships. Clyde was the only person who understood him, a person who _also_ suffered at the hands of both Kupa and the High Elf Kingdom, unlike this spoiled, privileged elf king who probably couldn't care less about innocent lives being destroyed for the sake of politics.

They weren't at all the same.

"We're about to reach the Barrier," Stan announced, breaking his train of thought once more.

"The Barrier?" Craig repeated.

"You were planning to come into the High Elf Kingdom and you didn't even know about the Barrier?" Stan raised an eyebrow at him.

"I know what it is," Tweek cut in. He turned to Craig, "It's their form of protection of their main city. It's like a magic bubble that can keep anyone from coming in without permission. Kind of like how Kupa City built a giant castle wall."

"Right," Stan confirmed.

Craig blinked. He did vaguely remember Wendy saying something about a border in what felt like forever ago now. He just hadn't listened to her endless droning very carefully. He recalled her saying she needed to just get as close as possible until someone came out. That had been enough for him at the time.

"It was probably mentioned," Craig admitted.

"Who the hell even briefed you?" Stan asked annoyedly, "My dad? Because from what I've heard about him, that would explain-"

"Dame Wendy Testaburger. Remember her?"

Stan stopped, his eyes growing large. "Wendy? Yeah, I do," he said. He paused for a moment. "How is she?"

Craig snorted, "What, more interested in her than your actual family?"

"We were close, I guess," Stan tried to shrug off.

"Close?"

"I was also supposed to marry her," Stan frowned, annoyed by Craig's pressing, "Our families arranged that since we were born."

"Wow," Craig blinked, "Well, she's kind of a pain in the ass now, so you should probably consider yourself lucky. Always trying to frame me with murder. Though I guess in the end she did save me and help me get this gig instead of the chopping block, so maybe your ex-fiance isn't completely terrible. Actually, she's still close to your family, so if you wanted to go back, maybe you could still-"

"I don't want to marry her," Stan cut him off abruptly, walking at a brisker pace, "I just wanted to know how she was."

"Well, fine."

"But I'm glad talking about her distracted you from whatever panic attack you were about to have," he said, "Because we're here now."

Craig's eyes widened, partially from being reminded of the situation, but partially because he was puzzled. There was absolutely nothing about this exact spot that seemed in any way different or spectacular. Stan stood facing a small cliff-like hill on the edge of the path, but not unlike any of the countless others they passed on their way to this very spot.

"So they weren't exaggerating," Tweek spoke up, "Your kingdom truly is hidden."

"Of course," Stan almost almost smirked as he nodded towards the cliff, "Wanna see for yourself?"

"Is it dangerous?" his eyes widened.

"Not really. See for yourself."

Slowly, Tweek walked over to it. He carefully reached out a hand and ever so slowly brushed his fingers against the stone of the hill in front of him. As he did so, there was suddenly a _pop_ sound, causing him to immediately recoil his hand.

"Ow!" he jumped.

"Are you alright?" Craig quickly rushed over to him.

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine," Tweek nodded, closely looking at his fingers.

"It's no worse than static electricity," Stan assured them, "Just a shock to prevent unwanted creatures or people from passing through. Most unwanted people or animals don't think anything of it and just move on. And even if someone knows what it is and tries, it's still impossible to pass."

"So it works?"

"For the most part. Though your piece of shit wizard knows the way through, so safety from Kupa is compromised."

"Because he can do magic?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Tweek answered for him.

"Right," Stan nodded. He reached into his sleeveless tunic and pulled out a necklace that had been hidden beneath it. Tied to the end was what looked to be a very small flute-like instrument. He brought it to his lips and played a hauntingly beautiful tune.

The second the tune began, a cold sweat instantly broke out across Craig's body.

 _It's not the same song_ , he told himself, _It's not._

Yet it was similar. Even without the confirmation that it was High Elven music, he would have easily been able to tell that it was.

"Are you okay?" Tweek asked, his voice full of concern as he gently placed a hand on Craig's shoulder.

"No," he shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them once more. He had to get a grip. Tweek's hand on his shoulder gently rubbed in circles.

Stan didn't falter, merely continuing the hauntingly beautiful tune. As the song went on, the cliff began to glow from the magic of the flute's tune. It was quite similar to that of the gnome's tree, yet somehow more intricate, as if it was a dazzling show of lights choreographed by magic to the song. It opened similarly to that of the gnome's tree, with what appeared to be a portal. Whether it truly _was_ a portal or if it was merely an opening to an illusion, he didn't know nor care. To anyone else, it would have been breathtaking.

As the opening grew large enough to fit the three of them, Stan's haunting tune came to an end and he let the small flute drop, hitting against his chest lightly as he walked over to Craig, somewhat roughly grabbing his arm still restrained behind his back. Craig didn't resist.

"After you, _your highness,_ " Stan gestured to the portal. Tweek nervously tightened his lips into a fine line before nodding, stepping towards the light. Stan nudged Craig, forcing him to follow after. With a deep breath, Craig stepped in. Despite a voice screaming inside of him to squeeze his eyes shut, he looked out into the sprawling world in front of him.

The kingdom was absolutely gorgeous, to an extent that even he couldn't deny. From the moment he stepped in, it was obnoxiously bright and... _clean_. He nearly stopped in his tracks to take it all in, but Stan continued pushing him forward.

The buildings were much taller than that of Kupa City's castle-and the Kupa castle was _known_ for being a very tall structure within Zaron. The architecture was also just so... _different_ from anything he'd seen before. Instead of an overbearing dark stone brick castle surrounding the city, instead there was a single tall building of a smooth, cream color that shot up into the sky in many intricate spires. The many buildings visible in the city were also beautifully constructed, as if meticulously carved by single stones like a piece of art.

It was clearly different from the dense forest, with large spans open for the wide streets, that this was quite different from the great elven forest, and yet the elven forest still made its presence known. Many large trees still spouted up, vines with foliage and stunning flowers growing across the walls of many buildings. There was a clear deep respect for nature, for the forest.

Even someone like Craig found himself getting lost in the beauty. That is, until he noticed the elves of the city making their way about, reminding him where exactly he was.

They were less frightening to him than the Drow Elves. They lacked the grey skin and odd, glowing eyes. They had normal human skin tones and were far closer to humans in overall appearance. Yet their ears were still pointed, their bodies more lithe on average, their hair impossibly thick, and their facial features more pointy. Surprisingly, however, they didn't make him feel sick like he would have thought, even though they were the ones who-

"Marshwalker, you've returned," a voice called out in a thick, foreign accent. Craig turned around and noticed an elf on horseback wearing what looked to be official military clothes. Soft, intricately woven fabric, unlike the drabber, almost stiff looking uniforms of Kupa's military-when they weren't wearing metal armor, that is.

"I have," Stan nodded, "Got the thief we've been waiting for right here."

"Who's the spare?" the elf gestured his head over to Tweek.

"Yeah, things kind of got more complicated than planned," Stan frowned. He narrowed his eyes for a moment and switched to High Elven, saying something Craig could not understand.

"Watch your tongue!" Tweek cut in with a frown. Stan and the guard's eyebrows rose in surprise, clearly not expecting him to understand them. Tweek merely crossed his arms and continued speaking, this time in perfectly fluent High Elven.

"I see," the elf on the horse replied, "Then let us go now."

It somewhat reminded Craig of the first time he entered Kupa City all those years ago. Being dragged through the city with people looking at him. Going to some building for some bureaucratic meeting. He sighed, trying his best to scope out the area, to memorize it for later.

"This way," the elf said, getting off his horse in front of what appeared to be a typical building. Perhaps it was a military or security building of some kind, Craig figured. Tweek and him shot each other a glance before following him inside.

A few other elves appeared to be waiting for them. There was a large table in the middle where Stan instructed him to sit down at-uncomfortably so with his cuffs still behind his back. Tweek was directed more formally and more politely to sit down at a different chair on the other end.

Stan said some words in High Elven before sitting down himself next to Craig. One man seemed to read off something else in the same language as if it were a formal proceeding to start an official meeting. It was clear as Stan paid no direct mind to him that this meeting wasn't going to be translated to him. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Craig quickly found himself unable to pay attention. Perhaps he should have listened more in his language lessons, even if the sound of it did disgust him. He instead looked absent-mindedly to the stone counter top, wishing he was _anywhere_ else.

He heard his name mentioned a few times, as well as Tweek's and the word "Kupa". There were a few words he remembered learning, but not many, definitely not enough for him to have any idea what was going on. Tweek would cut in a few times, sounding quite angry yet regal.

"Right," Stan suddenly said. He stood up from his seat and motioned for Craig to do the same. Immediately he got behind him and undid his cuffs, letting them fall to the floor with a loud _clank_. Craig instinctively brought his hands in front of him and examined his wrists.

"What's-?"

"We were going to have you in our holding for safety reasons until we're ready for you," Stan explained, "But you can thank your royal best friend here and the annoying bureaucracies tied with him, it looks like you're getting an upgrade."

"That was really smart thinking, you know," Craig said, entering Tweek's room.

"Hm?" Tweek jumped in slight alarm, turning around from the window he had been gazing out of.

"You know, telling them that you're some prince," Craig chuckled under his breath as he leaned against the wall in their shared quarters, "I can't believe they bought it that easily."

Tweek opened his mouth for a moment and then shut it again. "Right."

"I didn't even think barbarians _had_ a united monarchy. Was the treaty you came up with real, or were you just bullshitting and hoping he'd buy it?"

"I…" Tweek paused, "It's real."

"I guess you are an expert on those things," Craig snorted.

The quarters they had been placed into in the meantime were in the High Elven castle itself. Of course he didn't like the idea of being forced to stay at this castle until they waited for further orders, but he figured it was far better than an elven _dungeon_.

It was by far the largest place Craig had ever stayed in. It was grand and open, with a living room section with seats of fine fabrics and leathers, with a large rug in the center. There was a room with a private bath, where water could be fetched upon their request. There were even three bedrooms provided, more than enough for Craig and Tweek to have one each.

It was also decorated far brighter and nicer than the castle in Kupa was. In Kupa, the dark stone walls with small windows let in little natural light, relying on candles and torches that were placed about the walls. It was _grand_ , particularly in the area of the royal family and the wizard's personal living quarters, but it still always felt quite bleak. The art and decor was if anything _gaudy_. The areas for the other nobles, on the other hand, always felt more like a dungeon to him.

This was different, however. It was _bright_. The colors were soft and inviting. The artwork upon the walls were far more beautiful and artistic than the obnoxious portraits of Kupa nobility. The walls were lightly colored with detailed intricate patterns painted on them. The windows were large, and even contained a balcony for one to go out and enjoy the spectacular view outside.

"Are you _sure_ you're alright?" Tweek quickly changed the subject, "You seemed to be really panicking earlier."

Craig's smile fell. "Yeah I'm...fine."

"Are you _sure_ because-"

"I'm kind of trying not to think about the reality of the situation."

"And-"

"So you reminding me of it doesn't really help."

Yet somehow, he felt as though he was partially lying to Tweek. He _should_ be more panicked. Yet for some reason, he felt so very...calm. As if he was finally home after a long time away.

It was perhaps that feeling of _calmness_ that bothered him the most.

"Right," Tweek bit his lip, "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Craig shook his head, quickly rushing over to him, "Like I said...you really helped me back there. If it weren't for you, I'd be locked in some shitty elven cell right now. That is, _if_ I even made it this far." He cracked a sideways smile, "You really saved me."

Tweek's face turned a light pink. "Th-Thank you," he said, looking away.

"So are you really gonna wear that campy outfit they picked out for you?" Craig asked, nodding his head towards an outfit laid out on Tweek's bed. An _elven_ outfit, complete with a shirt. Tweek had tried to decline it when they offered it to him, but they had _insisted_ that a crown prince like him _must_ have more suitable clothes to wear in the presence of the elven nobility. It was true, Tweek's normal brown pants did look like they had seen better days.

Tweek groaned, "It would be rude not to."

"Are you gonna try it on?"

"Why, do you want to see me in it?" Tweek raised an eyebrow.

"The idea of you in _that_ is actually pretty hilarious so...sure, why not."

Tweek pouted. "Fine. Then get out and let me get dressed."

"Sure you don't need help? Do you even know _how_ to put on a shirt?" he joked.

Tweek scowled. "Get out!"

Craig chuckled under his breath but complied, exiting Tweek's bedroom, deciding to make his way out to the balcony. Their quarters were facing _away_ from the city proper and instead out towards the autumn forest, allowing him to pretend he was somewhere else.

It turned out to be an easy distraction. The view _was_ beautiful. In a different way than Neunbruck. There were mountains in the distance, but they were different. Instead of the jagged snow capped mountains they had crossed before, these were smooth with blue lines all across them where they were littered with waterfalls.

Craig sighed, leaning against the rail of the balcony, feeling the cool autumn breeze against his face. It was just like the imaginary worlds in the stories Tricia loved. She would absolutely love it here. He closed his eyes. Yet instead, this was the land of the very people that-

"Please don't laugh," a voice interrupted his thoughts. Craig instantly spun around, only to see Tweek standing there. He instantly flung his hand to cover his mouth.

"I _said_ don't laugh," Tweek frowned, walking closer to him.

"I-I didn't," Craig shook his head fervently, raising his arms up defensively.

"I know, I look stupid," Tweek groaned, leaning on the rail.

"No you don't!" Craig said a little too quickly, "I mean... _yeah_ it's kind of a shock to see you in a button up shirt...Or, you know, a shirt in general but…well..."

"But?"

"You look pretty cute, actually," Craig blurted out.

Tweek's face turned bright red and quickly looked away.

"Wait!" Craig felt his own face turning hot, "I mean-I mean that you just...I don't know, you just look... _good_." That addition didn't help at all, he instantly realized.

"You think so?"

He _did_. It was an elven-made outfit of course, but it didn't look explicitly so, and in fact seemed vaguely familiar. Both the pants and the buttoned up shirt were of a vibrant green cloth that looked quite expensive. The cloth was woven intricate embroidery across it, buttons that were probably real gold, and perfectly patterned hems. It fit him loosely, but like it was tailor made to be that way for him specifically. It _was_ a campy outfit, yet it suited him very well.

Still, he shouldn't _say_ that to him.

"Sorry I'm-" he stammered, trying to look away from him and the green outfit.

"You?"

Craig found himself at a loss for words. It was just _weird_ was all. Not that Tweek didn't always look _good_ he figured. Yet seeing him like that-in an outfit that reminded him of-

He suddenly knew exactly what it reminded him of.

"Wait here a minute!" he called out suddenly, quickly rushing back inside. He quickly ran to his sack that he had haplessly tossed to the ground and rummaged through it. As soon as he found what he wanted, he scurried back outside.

"Are you alright?" Tweek asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Here!" Craig reached out his arms.

"You wanted to show me a hat?" Tweek asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Craig placed it on Tweek's head. "It matches your outfit perfectly," he said. Tweek quickly raised his arms to feel the hat on his head, but didn't take it off.. "Plus the little red feather adds some more color to that overwhelming green."

"Th-Thank you," Tweek replied, "I can give it back after-"

"No, keep it," Craig shook his head, "It looks good on you. Uh, I mean it looks _better_ on you. Than uh..me, I mean. It suits you."

"Thanks," Tweek gave a slight smile, "I'll take good care of it then."

"Clyde gave it to me," Craig explained, "It's bycocket Clyde had stolen for me that I kind of had instantly rejected...but you know, decided to keep for sentimen-personal reasons."

Tweek's smile faded, "In that case, I couldn't possibly-"

"I _want_ you to have it."

"O-Okay."

"Because, you know. I don't know how things are going to go from here. I don't know if I'll ever see you again after everything goes through. But I just kind of want you to know that...Well, even though I was a huge asshole at first and...kind of still am, honestly, I...Well, I just want to thank you is all."

"You've already thanked me," Tweek replied.

"I mean sure but...I meant physically. _Wait_ , I mean _physically_ in terms of a _physical_ gift. Which the hat is. So I don't know, I just-"

"I don't want to go separate ways from you."

Craig felt his chest grow heavy. "Kinda weird, given the not so nice circumstances of how we met."

Tweek laughed, "I agree."

"You know," Craig took a deep breath, looking out towards autumn forest, "If you wanted to...I can't give you the details _yet_ but...You are free to come along with Clyde and me when this is all over."

"You know I can't," Tweek shook his head, "The Barbarians are my people."

"I figured," he sighed with a frown, looking down at his hands that rested on the rail. It was pointless, anyway. Tweek would never see eye to eye with Clyde and him.

Still.

It was odd. He had grown his entire life connected to very few people. After the death of his family, Clyde was the only person he ever felt a true connection to. Clyde was who he pledged undivided loyalty to. Who he'd follow anywhere. He would _always_ have unwavering support for Clyde. Even if it meant soon betraying everyone. Betraying Tweek.

And yet...

"Craig?" Tweek put his hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah sorry, I…I'm just…"

"Craig what's wrong? Are you-"

Craig kissed him.

He wasn't sure why he did that, nor was he sure if it was the _right_ thing to do. Yet still he did, bringing his mouth to his a bit too roughly and desperately. It was as if he had lost control of himself.

A few moments later he broke away. Tweek's blue eyes stared back at him, widened in shock.

Craig took a step back. What had he just done?

He felt an idiot. He had no idea if Tweek wanted that from him. Was his look of surprise really a look of disgust? Maybe that was for the better. If Tweek hated him already then it would be easier when-

"Tweek I'm sor-"

Before he could finish, Tweek grabbed his face and pulled him back into the kiss, just as desperately as Craig had done. Slowly, Craig brought his hands to Tweek's shoulders against the green fabric, and slowly brought him into more of a hug.

Tweek broke away.

"Don't apologize," Tweek said in a voice slightly louder than a whisper, "I'd been wondering for a long time if we'd ever…"

"You have?" Craig asked.

"Well, yes," Tweek confessed, "I've been hoping _you'd_ say something because I...Well…"

"You have feelings for me?" Craig's voice sounded genuinely surprised.

"Of course!" Tweek frowned, "I thought that was obvious. I was worried that you were circumventing that on purpose."

"No!" Craig shook his head, "I-I've been so focused on everything that I've been...I haven't even _allowed_ myself to think about... _this_."

"Is there 'this'?"

"Well...we just kissed, didn't we?"

"I-Yes, but…"

"The whole running out of time thing?"

"Well, _that_ but not just," Tweek sighed, "It's more...I have to be honest with you."

"Honest?"

Tweek brought his hand to Craig's face, lightly brushing his cheek, then letting it fall to his side. He took a deep breath. "It wasn't a lie."

Craig tilted his head. "What wasn't?"

"I really am a prince, Craig."


	22. Chapter 19

"You're what?" Craig found himself repeating, his voice hollow.

"When I made that announcement...I was telling the truth," Tweek looked away.

"You're saying you're a prince."

"I was afraid to tell you because-well…" he trailed off.

"You're a prince."

"Yes," he answered, "My father was the King of the Barbarians. And I will be too...one day."

" _Was_ the king?" Craig echoed.

"My parents died quite a few years ago in an accident," he explained, "Before I was old enough to take on the title myself."

"So you're going to be a king," Craig blinked, "Of the Barbarians."

"Yes."

"And have been since the beginning?"

"Yes," he repeated.

"All this time?"

"All this time," Tweek nodded.

"I just...I think I need a minute." Before Tweek could respond, Craig found himself rushing past him, back inside from the balcony. He paused for a moment, unsure of where he should go until he decided upon going back into the designated room he claimed.

It was a grand, beautiful bedroom. The room alone was bigger than his home in Sundorham or his second floor place in Kupa City he shared with Clyde. It was more than anything he could have ever dreamt of. And was allowed to stay here because he was the personal guest of a _prince_.

The bed he sat upon was soft, so much so that it almost startled him. He gripped the soft blankets into his fists. He always wondered what the bed of royalty was like, hadn't he? It was just like he had always imagined.

Tweek was a prince. The man he just kissed was a prince. The person he had been traveling with for a while now. Was this the sort of living conditions he had been used to all along? He figured that barbarian society was a lot less... _elegant_ than elven, but after all of the things he realized he still didn't know, he knew he couldn't be sure of anything.

Yet still, knowing that Tweek was a prince, suddenly a lot of things about him made sense. Why he was so highly educated and fluent in multiple languages. Why he was so fiercely defensive of his people, taking offense to any notion of abandoning them. Why he was so strict at following his own cultural norms. Why he'd constantly say in vague ways that things were "different" for him. Why he wanted peace. Why he thought that he would have the ability to march into elven lands and bring peace.

Perhaps it should have been obvious to him that he was high ranking in some way, if not a prince.

Still, Craig _hated_ princes. He hated the nobility. They were against everything he stood for. Of course, Clyde too was a prince, but he was-he was _different_. He wasn't raised in a life of privilege, but the life of a serf, same as him. _His_ kingdom was destroyed. Everything had been taken from Clyde. Even more than had been taken from Craig. Yes, Clyde was different from the others. When he took over, he would _remain_ different. He wasn't the same.

With a sigh, he tried to collect his thoughts. First and foremost, he decided that it meant that any chance of Tweek ever seeing eye to eye with him went out the window. Tweek was raised as royalty, there was no way that he'd ever understand what he and Clyde went through. And even if he did by some miracle, for diplomatic reasons he'd have no choice but to side against him. Before long, they would be enemies. But that was okay, he told himself. He had expected things to end badly since day one.

But did this make Tweek a _bad_ person? Perhaps not. It didn't suddenly cause him to shapeshift into a different creature. He was still the same Tweek that he'd known the entire time. The same Tweek that he had trusted enough to share a lot of his life story about, his real name. The same Tweek that was tough and could kill a small dragon in the blink of an eye, but wouldn't let him swat at a pixie. That spoke against injustice.

No, Tweek was a good person. He would likely make a good king one day. If he had been king of Kupa or the High Elf Kingdom, perhaps none of this would have ever happened. He would probably be a hero.

After all, _Craig_ was the bad guy. He sighed.

He hadn't contacted Clyde since the cave. He knew he should, especially now that he was in the High Elf Kingdom itself. He told himself that enchanted communication device that Clyde had stolen when he worked for the Wizard was limited, and that it was important to only use it for important purposes. However, this was undoubtedly an important moment. Yet for some reason, he found himself afraid to. Which didn't make a lot of sense-he had no reason to be afraid of Clyde.

Okay, sure, Clyde had kept him in the dark much of the time. He always spoke of how _something_ would be the catalyst for them to change things, but it took him forever to say that that thing was the Stick of Truth. Clyde, although cagey as ever, had presumed it was still in the Wizard's possession and thought that working close to him he could figure out exactly where it was kept so he himself could snatch it up. When he was banished, suddenly the responsibility was fully turned to Craig to retrieve it. When he heard the Wizard that one fateful day say that it was out of his grasp, far off in the High Elf Kingdom, Craig had at the time thought it was all over. Yet there he was.

It was almost too convenient, he had thought. Being _assigned_ to steal the very thing they had been wanting to get their hands upon for years. How _easy_ this trip had been. Well, no. It wasn't _easy_. He nearly died several times. He went through a lot of dangerous obstacles that could have easily gone wrong. And yet…

There was a light knock at the door. "Craig?" Tweek softly called out from behind it. Right. He still had to deal with Tweek.

"Craig," Tweek gently repeated after he didn't respond, "Are you alright?"

"Hm? Yeah, I'm...I'm fine," Craig responded.

"Can I come in?"

Craig didn't answer right away. He had distanced himself from him for good reason, to clear his head.

"S...Sure, just give me a second." He took his time standing up from the soft bed and walking over to the door. He paused for a moment, and with a deep breath grabbed the knob and opened it.

Tweek's face was full of concern. Not like he'd been crying or anything, but like he was genuinely anxious yet meek. It made a twinge of guilt form in the pit of his stomach.

"Can we talk?" Tweek asked, his voice still quiet.

"Fine," Craig nodded, heading back to sit on the bed. After a moment's hesitation, Tweek followed him, sitting beside him. Neither said anything for a long moment, nor did they look each other in the eye.

"I'm sorry," Tweek finally said, "I should have been more honest to you."

"It's not that," Craig replied, "You said you weren't comfortable with talking about your home life. I didn't tell you everything, either."

"Still, I was-"

"It's like you were probably getting at," Craig cut him off, "I don't do well with the whole royalty and nobility concept."

"I know. I'm sorry," Tweek lowered his head.

"No, don't apologize," Craig responded with a sigh, "You didn't-You didn't do anything wrong." Tweek raised his head to look at him, a look of cautious surprise in his eyes. "I mean, unless you're some really oppressive ruler or something. In that case-"

"Of course not!" Tweek shook his head.

"But you do live in better standards than your average Barbarian, don't you?"

"I-I guess."

"Like _this_?" he gestured outwardly to the room they were in.

"Not at all," Tweek shook his head, nearly laughing, "My castle, if you can call it that, is nothing like this. In design, but also it's not nearly as large or as tall. Generations ago we would have, built into the sides or the tops of cliffs, but that wouldn't be feasible in the Lost Forest."

"Do you wish you could have had that?"

"Maybe for the sake of our culture. But I...I don't think I'm more _deserving_ of a castle than anyone else."

"But you'd still live in it if you had it?"

"Well...sure. Because it'd be my role I was born into. I didn't _ask_ to be born a prince."

"You didn't _ask_ to be born with a silver spoon in your mouth," Craig repeated.

"Y-You know I didn't mean it like that," Tweek grew defensive, "I mean that...I just happened to be born to the King and Queen. It's not some choice I made! It's not just all fun, being royalty. There's also a lot of responsibilities and-"

"Wow, must be real tough," Craig said in a hollow, sarcastic tone as he stood up and began to walk towards the door.

"I meant that-"

Craig turned around, the bright yellow light of the sunset flashing on his face. "Sorry, I can't really relate to your struggles, your highness. But then, what would a lowly peasant like me know about anything, right?"

" _Can you braid my hair?" Tricia asked._

" _I'm making breakfast," her mother sighed, somewhat exasperated as she stirred the pot of gruel._

" _But it's hot today and it's in my way," she protested, stomping her foot lightly._

 _Her mother groaned, putting her hand to her temple. "Craig, could you please do your sister's hair?" Craig's attention was piqued, sitting up straight on the side of the bed where he was lacing up his shoes for the day._

" _Braid my hair!" Tricia demanded, crossing her arms with a frown._

 _Craig frowned back. "Aren't you old enough to do your own hair?"_

" _Craig, please just help your sister," their mother's voice grew more tense._

 _Craig sighed. "C'mon," he motioned for his sister to sit on the ground in front of him. Her demanding expression instantly faded as she flashed a childish, triumphant grin and plopped herself down in front of where he sat on the bed._

 _He bunched up his sister's strawberry blonde hair. It was frizzier than usual from sleeping with it down, heightened by the humidity of summer, and she let out irritated yelps as he ran his fingers through her tangles. It was annoying, but he had done this enough to know what he was doing._

 _He parted the top half of her hair from around her ears from the bottom half. Taking the top half, he braided it in a simple braid to the nape of her neck. From there, he took the bottom half of her hair and incorporated it into the existing braid all the way down. When he reached the tips of her hair and couldn't braid any more he grabbed the braid and looped it behind her first braid twice and pulled. It was a simple and easy hairstyle that his mother taught him to do to his sister as it required no ties or fabric to stay in place-something valuable for a poor serf family who couldn't spend much money on aesthetics._

 _Just as he finished, she quickly jumped up._

" _You're welcome," he frowned._

" _Thank you" she said overdramatically._

" _You really should learn to do it yourself," Craig crossed his arms, "I can't do it for you forever."_

" _Why not?" she crossed her arms back at him dramatically, "You think we'll ever be separated or something?"_

Craig's eyes opened suddenly. With the bed as soft as it was, it was one of the best night's sleep he ever had, even despite how hectic his thoughts were. His body didn't want to move, overcome with how comfortable he was. Yet he knew he couldn't.

Tweek and Craig had been invited to dinner the previous night, but Craig had declined, having claimed that he had a headache. The elf that summoned them disapproved, but they had let him be. Tweek on the other hand went, while Craig went straight to bed. He didn't hear him come back.

He didn't know if he was really, truly mad at him. Tweek didn't mean to come across as insensitive. Perhaps Craig _did_ take him the wrong way, but it didn't really matter. Tweek would never understand. Perhaps he _was_ being overly harsh towards him. Either way, it didn't matter, he decided, groaning as he got out of bed.

It was _better_ to push him away, he told himself. Finding a reason, any reason was a _good_ thing. He merely stretched his shoulders and went to put on his day clothes, trying to get these thoughts out of his mind. It was stupid for him to have kissed Tweek. He should just pretend it never happened, he thought as he slowly made his way out of the bedroom.

When he opened his door and exited the bedroom, he saw Tweek sitting upon a chair in the main room. He was already ready for the day, and had an alertness that gave Craig the impression that he had been up for hours.

"Good morning," Tweek said cordially.

"Yeah," Craig nodded, avoiding looking at him. He bit the inside of his mouth.

"The rooms they give us are nice," Tweek continued, "The beds are almost _too_ soft. It was almost hard to get myself out of bed."

"Sure," he nodded.

"Craig," Tweek sighed as he stood up, "Please...I don't want to do this."

"Do what?" he halfheartedly feigned ignorance, still looking out the window towards the mountains, lit with a warm morning glow.

"Does it really matter _that_ much to you?" Tweek's voice rose. Craig could hear him coming closer to him from behind, but he didn't flinch.

"Don't know what you mean."

"Yes you _do_ ," Tweek's voice grew more irritated, "Does that-Does it make you _that_ disgusted towards me?" He reached towards him, lightly grabbing his arm. Craig turned around, looking at him directly in the face for the first time. His expression was pained-and it hit Craig right in the gut.

"No," he looked away again.

"Then-?"

" _Fine_. You're right. You didn't do anything wrong," he found himself saying, as if his mouth was moving on its own, "It's not-It's _me_ that has... _stuff_. Alright?"

"Stuff?" Tweek raised his eyebrows in genuine confusion.

Craig rolled his eyes. "Well, let's think about this for a minute here, Tweek. You're a barbarian prince. I'm a Kupa thief. I don't like nobility. You _are_ nobility. You're going to go back and become king of your people. I'm going to be...far away where we'll never see each other again."

"How is the situation any different because I'm a prince?" Tweek asked, "Either way, we were going to separate, right? How is anything different from when _you_ decided to kiss _me_?"

"It-It just _is,_ okay?"

"Why? I'm still the same person, aren't I?"

"That's not it," he shook his head, getting more irate by the moment.

"Then what is it exactly?"

"I shouldn't have kissed you, okay?" Craig found himself close to yelling, "I really shouldn't. It was _incredibly_ stupid of me."

At that moment they both grew silent. It was as if one could hear a pin drop. "I see."

"No!" Craig groaned, "I didn't mean it like _that_."

"It's fine, I-"

"I meant that it was _stupid_ for _me_ to ever allow myself to care so much about you! Because I _do_ and it-and it..." he found himself frustratedly trailing off, incapable of finding the right words.

Tweek's mouth was left slightly ajar. "I don't...I don't know what you mean."

"Well, that's the truth. I _shouldn't_ care about you," Craig tried to take a deep breath, "Not _you_ specifically...I shouldn't allow myself to care about _anyone_ new. I'm just-It's not how I'm supposed to live. It's not how I'm supposed to _be_."

"How is _that_ anyway to live your life?" Tweek asked, visibly taken aback.

"It doesn't _matter_ ," Craig found himself practically saying through his teeth, "Because that's just how it _is_ okay? I can't-I'm just...My life isn't _like_ most people. I've _never_ had many people around me, okay? And those who are around me generally speaking, you know, don't like me for good reason. It's just the way I _am_. People were scared of me, or they thought I was somehow tainted, or heartless, or just some scummy lowly thief not worth their time and honestly they're-they're _right_. I've _always_ known they're right. I'm not a good person and I always just cause people nothing but trouble. So you know what? It's _not_ you. It's not about you being some fucking prince. I know deep down I don't really care that much. It's that...I _have_ to find an excuse to distance myself from you."

"Why would you say that? You know that's not true about yourself," Tweek shook his head, eyes wide.

"Yes it _is._ I _know_ it is," Craig's voice cracked, his nails digging into his palms, "You don't have _any_ idea-"

"I _know_ there are others who care about you. You've even said so," Tweek cut him off

"Yeah, and look where all of them are!" Craig practically laughed, "My whole family-my whole fucking _villiage_ is dead! And you know what? All I ever did was cause the whole lot of them problems and yet _I'm_ the one who got to live? What sorta sick joke is that?"

"What about your friend Clyde?" he tried to offer as he moved to sit down on the sofa, "You are risking your life to help him."

"And you know what?" Craig found himself trembling, as he walked over to sit next to Tweek "I could have easily prevented _all of this_ from happening if it weren't for my own selfishness. I could have gotten us both out of that hellhole of a city-of a _kingdom_ if I just did the _only_ thing he _ever_ asked me to do when I could have. But I didn't. I never did. And now because of that he's all of being banished in fuckall knows where waiting for me to do what I've put off doing for way too long while I'm wasting my time sitting around in some elite castle guest quarters. Because I know I'm _still_ putting it off."

"I don't really follow," Tweek admitted, though is voice and expression filled with empathy.

"It doesn't matter," Craig shook his head. He took a deep breath, trying to force himself to calm down. "What matters to you is that I'm not a good person. I'm not meant to be with people. I've never been meant to be around people. Everyone I've ever had a connection with has only ever been fucked over because of me, and I _know_ that the same thing is going to happen between us."

"You don't _know_ that," Tweek put a hand gently on his arm, "You're not a prophet."

"Maybe not, but I might as well be," Craig gave a sarcastic laugh under his breath, as he slouched forward, resting his arms on his legs. He wasn't crying, but he could feel stress tears dampening his eyes. Tweek kept his arm on his, allowing a long moment of silence.

"Well...What if," Tweek finally started, but then stopped for a moment. "What if I told you that I don't _care_?"

"You don't _care_?" he asked somewhat incredulously, straightening back up.

"Maybe-Maybe you're right," Tweek continued, "I _don't_ know everything about you. What your life has been like, what you've done. I can tell there's a lot you haven't told me yet, if you ever will. Maybe we _will_ get hurt. Maybe after a couple of days we'll never see each other again. But...that's the future. We're in the present."

Craig blinked. "Is _that_ a good way to live your life?" he echoed Tweek's earlier sentiment.

"Maybe not," he answered, "But I think it's better than however you've been living up until now."

"You don't know what you're saying, you know."

"Like I said, maybe so," Tweek frowned, "But me in the future can handle that."

"Can you be so sure about that?"

Tweek sighed before leaning in towards him. Ever so slowly, he lightly brushing his lips against Craig's. "I am," he said in a solemn voice barely louder than a whisper.

Against Craig's better judgement, he kissed back.

It was somewhat late morning when an elf knocked on their door and announced that they were being summoned for breakfast-no excuses allowed from _Mr. Feldspar_ this time. To be fair, Craig _was_ quite hungry from not eating the previous night so he wasn't going to argue.

The elf led them down the long grand hallway down a different route from where they had entered. Ordinarily Craig would have kept his eyes wide open in order to very carefully examine and memorize his surroundings, but he found himself unable to at that very moment.

What _was_ that this morning? he wondered to himself. He _never_ let his emotions get to him like that. He never even said the vast majority of what he had said to _anyone_ before, including Clyde. He was always in _control_ of his emotions. He didn't allow _himself_ to dwell on his negative feelings on himself, let alone share them with anotherperson.

He took a deep breath. It didn't matter. All this stuff-from talking about feelings to Tweek, to kissing Tweek-none of it really mattered. He was here for a reason. He had to remind himself of that. Still, it was an odd feeling. As if a wall had been broken, emotions and words spilling out beyond his control. As hard as he tried, he couldn't _not_ dwell on that for now.

Red had always teased him, saying that it's _good_ to loosen up and talk about feelings. How it makes you feel better, especially if it's to someone you trust. Yet he didn't. He shared his feelings and Tweek accepted them better than he could have ever _dreamt_ someone could, and yet he didn't feel better. He felt _worse_.

Perhaps a good thing to come out of it, however, was that it helped put his motivations back in check. It forced himself to be reminded of all he lost, of all that was taken from him. Of what the elves did to him, of what Kupa did to him. Of why it was so important for him to succeed in this mission. Why it was so important to help Clyde.

"Ahem," the elf let out just as Craig was about to absentmindedly walk into a large doorway. That sort of behavior _especially_ wasn't like him.

"This is the dining room," the elf guard said once Craig took a step back, "Your food and... _someone_ is waiting for you."

"Someone?" Tweek asked. The elf ignored him as he opened the large doors.

The dining room was large and grand, although Craig knew probably not the grandest one that fed the High Elf King. Still, it was beautifully decorated with the same overarching aesthetic as the rest of the castle. It had decently sized white stone table sitting in the middle under an elegant chandelier, though the candles upon it were currently unlit due to the natural lighting of the morning sun cast through the large windows. Upon the table there were plates and chairs already prepared for Tweek and him, with food Craig unlike anything he had ever seen before. At the end, sat a man that-

Craig had to do a double take.

It _couldn't_ be.

Not _that_ guy. There was no way.

"He-Hello there, Craig," an annoyingly familiar voice let out with a smug grin.


	23. Chapter 20

It couldn't be, Craig told himself again. Not _that_ asshole. A _nyone_ but him.

"I've been w-waiting for you," his coy smirk grew.

"What did you just call him?" Tweek asked.

"Oh did he not tell you?" he laughed.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tweek replied. He turned to Craig. "Do you know who he is?"

"No," Craig said, "No no no no no. This isn't happening. I don't accept this."

"Aw, c-c'mon now. Don't be like that," he joked, "Why don't you take a s-seat before your food gets c-c-cold?"

"Who is he?" Tweek asked again, voice more concerned.

"Who is he?" Craig practically let out a single laugh, "He's a fucking shitty ass spy is what he is!" He turned towards him, "You know Red is dead, right? Remember her? That girl whose tavern you were hanging around in? She was fucking murdered because of _you_!"

His coy smile faded. "No," he shook his head, "Red was captured because of the Wizard."

"No, because _you_ got her involved in your bullshit!" Craig found his hands balling into fists, trying his best to refrain from going over punching that smug bard directly in the face, "She was always sticking her nose into other peoples' business, always looking for a fun story, and _you_ took advantage of that! You got her involved in something she should have _never_ been a part of and if you didn't she'd be-she'd still be…" he found himself unable to finish.

"There's a lot you c-c-clearly don't know," Jimmy sighed in a still serious tone, "Please, s-sit down."

Craig didn't want to sit, but the doors behind them suddenly slammed shut. It was clear he wasn't going anywhere, so he reluctantly sat in one of the chairs, Tweek following suit immediately after.

"Who is Red?" Tweek asked.

"She's-She was just some girl I knew in Kupa," Craig answered in a low voice, "An innkeeper's daughter who ran the pub. She was annoying and nosey, but…" his voice suddenly grew louder, " _this_ person here was a spy who snuck into Kupa City and tricked her into housing him. Which, you should know, got her _killed_. I _saw_ it."

"Like I s-s-said, that's _not_ true."

"And why exactly should I believe a word you say?"

"W-Well, would you look at who you're s-s-sitting next to?" he shrugged, gesturing towards Tweek.

"What?" Tweek asked.

He grinned at Tweek, "When I first met him, I _told_ him you Barbarians were as nice as can be. He, on the other hand, acted like I was crazy. Said you guys were barely human, I do recall."

Tweek frowned. "He did seem to be under that impression when we first met, yes," he admitted, "But he doesn't...He doesn't think that way anymore."

"Did he even tell you his real name?"

Tweek didn't respond, merely looking to Craig, clearly unsure of how he should respond.

"Where the hell did _you_ learn that name?" Craig demanded.

"You'd be s-surprised."

"Well, whatever. I don't even care," Craig found his heart pounding in his chest, "Regardless, I'm sure you know this is a...a very _sensitive_ mission I'm on. I don't have any fucking clue what your weird game plan is or where you heard that name-that I _did_ tell Tweek by the way-but regardless, you are _not_ going to fucking ruin _all_ that I'm working for by bringing up my old identity."

Jimmy started laughing hysterically.

"Do you think that's fucking funny?" Craig found his face turning hot with anger, " _Lives_ are on the line here!"

" _Everyone_ here knows your r-real name, Craig."

"I _didn't_ turn Red into a t-tr-traitor," he explained, "She had _been_ a spy. For _years_."

"You're lying," Craig said again.

"I'm afraid I'm n-n-not."

"You're lying," Craig said for a third time, "I have no idea what sort of fucked up mental game you are trying to play, but it stops now. There's no way in _hell_ she was a spy, and especially not one that would...I'm not _anyone_. I'm a fucking thief. Okay, maybe I _was_ from a serf village, but hell that makes me even _more_ of a nobody."

"Do you really think that?"

"I don't understand," Tweek shook his head, "Yes, _Craig_ told me about his life as a serf, and how he ran away. But I-from all accounts, he's telling the truth. He was just a normal boy in a poor village who happened to be lucky enough to escape. Why would you know his real name?"

Jimmy let out a laugh. A disgusting, nauseous feeling grew in the pit of Craig's stomach.

"Get us outta here," he stood up, voice shaky.

Tweek's expression grew worried. "Craig-"

"I can't deal with this right now," he cut him off, "Get me the fuck out of here. I don't care where. Lock me in the fucking dungeon if that's what you want. I don't care. I just don't want to see your face or hear _any_ of this right now."

"I _was_ warned you wouldn't take this well," he sighed, "Alr-r-right, we'll let you go on your way for now. But you're still going to have an important things to do later on today."

"Like hell I will!"

"I don't believe you have a say in the matter."

As promised, they were finally let go. Craig was too sick to his stomach to eat any of the breakfast, though Tweek insisted on taking some with them for later, insisting quietly that he would eventually get hungry. Craig himself didn't care if he starved to death as long as he got to be away from all of these assholes.

Unfortunately, however, he quickly found that being "let go" didn't mean that they were without supervision, as they found a familiar face standing there waiting arms crossed in the middle of the wide hallway.

"Goddammit," Craig groaned, "Not _you_."

"Hey, I didn't ask to get a babysitting job, either," Stan frowned, "But after that temper tantrum, we can't just let you roam free, even with your prince friend here."

"Aren't you the king's right hand man?" Craig asked, "Why are you assigned to what's considered a _babysitting_ job?"

"Don't play dumb."

Craig didn't respond. He didn't know if he should take Jimmy's vague words to heart. He had _no idea_ how much they actually knew about him. It would be better for him to presume they knew as little as possible.

"Where are you taking us?" Tweek asked.

"The king thought it would be nice to give you a nice walk around our kingdom," Stan answered, "Or whatever."

"Can't you just lock me in the dungeon?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Why not? I'm literally asking."

"I told you, king's orders."

"Even if I do something illegal?" Craig asked, "I can cause a big scene here and now."

"Stop it!" Tweek scolded him.

"I'm serious," he shrugged. Tweek groaned in disapproval.

"Just come on," Stan sighed. They walked down the long hallway towards the grand entryway until finally he led them out of the entrance of the castle, into the city's cool morning.

It was a nice day, he had to admit. The autumn breeze felt nice after the stuffy feeling of being forced to share breathing space with that bard. A very odd breeze, too. Though he couldn't figure out why.

Still, it didn't really calm him down. How could he expect to? He was in the middle of enemy land, unsure of how much they knew, what they were going to do to him. Perhaps he shouldn't have acted impulsively and listened to what Jimmy knew about him, as now he would be forced to wait wondering. He _could_ ask Stan. Yet he knew even if he wanted to, the words wouldn't come.

A gust of breeze blew again, blowing with an almost sing-songy sound. It felt as though it wrapped itself around him, hugging him. It truly was odd. Though he quickly dismissed it. He was just on edge, was all.

"Where specifically are we going?" Tweek asked suddenly.

"You'll see," Stan shrugged.

Tweek bit his lip and asked something in High Elven. Stan paused to think for a moment and said one word Craig _did_ understand. " _Zjur._ " The High Elvish word for "no". Tweek merely nodded his head in understanding and followed along.

They walked down the grand front yard of the palace towards the city streets. There wasn't a very large gap between them. The people of the High Elven Kingdom were already up and out for the day as they passed through the main street going down from the castle. The citizens wandered the magical torch-lined streets minding their own business buying things from local stands along the street and chattering away in their sing-songy language. Some would pause and stare upon seeing the three humans pass by, but otherwise they seemed generally unconcerned.

"This is our main market square," Stan gestured towards the surroundings in his bored, fake guide voice.

"You're really doing this?" Craig asked.

"I told you, I was told to show you around the kingdom."

"Yeah but like-"

"A lot of our commerce happens here," Stan completely ignored him, "Not just local goods-we also have things from all over Zaron. Though maybe not much from most of the human kingdoms. You know how things are."

"I don't care."

"Some diplomat you are," Stan snorted under his breath. Craig scowled, but otherwise ignored him.

He took them down the busy street, weaving them in between the elves making their way. Despite what Stan said about there being other humans, he hadn't seen any others, only the three of them. Four if Jimmy was to be included.

The elven city seemed to have more in common with Neunbruck than Kupa. Although the architecture was more sculpted and pristine compared to the very wood reliant Neunbruck, both were incredibly well maintained and organized. Both were clean. Both had people who seemed far... _happier_.

Tweek greeted a few of the local elves passing by in Elvish because _of course_ he would. They'd always look at him strangely for a few moments before nodding politely and responding something simple back.

"You're not like most Barbarians, are you?" Stan commented after he did this.

"That's what I always said!" Craig frowned.

"Well," Tweek shrugged, "If _he's_ not going to be a good 'diplomat' then maybe I should be." Stan gave a small amused smile and chuckled slightly under his breath.

And so the little 'tour' went on. Stan kept guiding them along, always keeping them in sight, especially when it got crowded with people. He took them down some side streets, though gradually he gave up putting up some act to explain everything to them. Craig noticed that the side streets Stan kept choosing to continue on weren't random-he was taking them somewhere specific.

It became more obvious as they began to go to sparcer and sparcer areas. Of course, it made sense-he was their guide showing them around. Still, there was a very odd feeling in Craig that only grew larger and larger. One that he couldn't really explain.

The wind blew again, a gust of breeze once more wrapping itself around Craig.

They were heading down a quite empty street that seemed to be at the very edge of the built up city. If they continued down, they would be going into open land.

"Where are we going?" Tweek asked.

Stan paused, turning around. Interestingly, he didn't look at Tweek, but at Craig. "You'll see," he simply said before turning back around.

"This is weird," Craig grumbled under his breath, but continued on. Tweek nodded in agreement, out of Stan's line of vision.

Before long, they reached the end of the buildings, leaving the paved road for the soft mossy natural ground-not unlike that of the rest of the elven forest, although without the trees.

It was actually quite a wide open space. Moss and flowers grew, but trees were noticeably absent. It almost reminded him of Kupa's plains, but he had to admit to himself that this was far more beautiful. Even the sky seemed to be bluer somehow.

Yet from the distance, however, he could see among the beautiful landscape an imperfection in the moss. A large black gash in the ground, like a wound. Stan was leading them right for it, making Craig wonder if _this_ was the specific reason he was bringing them all the way out there. The uneasy feeling grew more and more as they got closer and closer.

"Have you ever heard about the Great Elven Tree?" Stan asked, as they approached the edge of the scorched ground. It was round and incredibly long in diameter, with black lines snaking from it, almost like roots had once been there.

Tweek opened his mouth to speak. "Ye-"

"Sorry, not you," Stan cut him off, "Him." He pointed directly to Craig.

"I don't think so," Craig shook his head.

"It was an incredibly powerful tree. One said to have-"

"Wait, I have!" Craig cut him off, "A long time ago. Something about how it had all the power in Zaron or something."

"Good," Stan nodded, "Then you probably knew that it had been destroyed a long time ago."

"Well yeah," Craig gestured to the pitch black ground, "Sure seems to be."

"Anything else you know?" Stan narrowed his eyes.

"Well," Craig thought about how he should respond, "Actually...there is a legend about it that made its way around Kupa. That a stick from it managed to not be destroyed. That said stick, coming from this powerful tree is said to be-"

"Incredibly powerful," Stan cut him off, "Yeah. It is. The most powerful thing in all of Zaron. Can break the laws of magic. All of that."

"So it's real, I guess? Amazing," Craig feigned ignorance. Stan frowned.

"It's an honor to be in the presence of where it once stood," Tweek pondered, "Even though we Barbarians reject magic it's still fascinating. Something once so large and so powerful...gone."

"But how does that make you _feel_?" an unfamiliar voice asked from behind them, causing Craig to jump slightly. He turned around to see who it was.

Before him stood an elf he had never seen before. He was tall for an elf-being what was about average human male height. Yet the large pointy ears peeking out from impossibly thick, curly red hair gave it away. Upon the top of his head of red hair was what appeared to be a wooden crown made of hardened vines, intricately woven together to form what almost appeared to be a halo with bright green leaves as vibrant as emerald still on it.

He wore long robes that trailed behind him as he approached that were blatantly High Elven in design. It was a burnt red color and intricately woven from what must be impossibly expensive fabrics, complete with deep golden thread work that patterned it without flaw. Craig would have been more surprised if he had found out that the thread _wasn't_ woven from real gold.

He had seen his fair share of fancy clothes and nobles who dressed themselves up, but he had never seen anything quite like this. Those clothing, that crown-even if only made of mere vines-made the clothing he had seen on nobility day after day in Kupa look like _rags_. Not to mention the way he carried himself-far more graceful than the heavy steps he'd see the Wizard stop around with.

"Your highness," Stan called out suddenly. He dropped to one knee in front of him, crossing a single arm over his chest.

The elf smiled kindly towards him. "Stan, you know you don't have to address me like that all the way out here," he said in his elegant elven accent.

"Why not?" Stan looked up from his formal positioning, "After all, we have _these_ people here."

"Just stand up," he laughed, reaching out a hand towards Stan.

" _Fine_ ," Stan gave a knowing smirk, allowing the elf to help pull him up. He brushed off his knees and turned to Tweek and Craig. "This is your Highness, the King-"

"Figured that out myself," Craig cut him off, "You're the High Elf King Kyle, right?"

The king blinked. "R-Right," he confirmed, taken aback by Craig's bluntness, "And your partner there is Barbarian Prince Tweek of the Lost Forest, correct?"

"Correct, your Highness," Tweek bowed formally.

"We weren't expecting you, but it's nice to finally meet you," Kyle bowed back to him, "Hopefully this change of plans will end up being for the better."

"Change of plans?" Tweek asked.

"Like I said, and like I know Stan had said to you before. We weren't expecting you."

"I'm sorry if this is an inconvenient intrusion."

"No, not at all!" Kyle shook his head, red curls bouncing as he did so, "It isn't your fault, it's just weird that I- _we_ didn't see it coming. But you know how it is. Things rarely go as planned."

"I'd say I do," Tweek nodded with a small smile.

" _You_ on the other hand," he pointed accusatorily to Craig, his expression suddenly annoyed, "I've been waiting for for a long time."

"C'mon, it hasn't taken me _that_ long to get here," Craig frowned, "I mean part of it was because of the whole time getting fucked over in the Lost Forest. Not to mention going over snowy mountains is _hard_ and-"

"Not that, before then," Kyle cut him off, " _Long_ before then."

"I don't get what you-"

"Craig of House Tucker, we've been waiting for you for a _long, long_ time."

The blood drained from his face. "Listen, I don't know what the hell that shitty ass bard told you, but he's a liar. He got my frien-a girl I knew killed. He doesn't actually know _anything_. He just likes making trouble."

Kyle rolled his eyes as he slowly walked closer to him.

Craig continued. "I'm just some normal guy on a mission. I'm not _anyone_ , okay? Your human pet Stan there said as much-he even called me a kid, even though I'm pretty sure we're all the same age. Tweek here is a prince and all, but I'm just an unlucky one who got the short end of the stick to do this for the Wizard. Which, I'm sure you know is a _good_ thing, getting peace and all. But I'm not-"

"Open your mouth," the king ordered as he stopped right in front of Craig.

"Excuse me?"

"Open your mouth," he repeated.

"No!" he scowled, "Why would I-?"

With an annoyed groan, Kyle rolled his eyes once more and reached his hands directly for Craig's face. Before he could even flinch, he felt the elf's two hands pry open his mouth. He tried to clamp his teeth shut tight, but before he could, the elf got his fingers around his tongue and pulled it out, nails digging into it so he couldn't pull away.

It was then he realized what he was doing. A sense of panic swept through his entire body in an instant.

"See?" he pointed at the bottom of his tongue with his free hand, "Did you know he was magic, Tweek?"

"Wh-What?" Tweek's eyes grew wide. Kyle let Craig free.

"That mark, you saw it, right?" Kyle asked, "It was put on him to conceal his magic when he was a kid."

"I-"

"So he didn't tell you," Kyle sighed, "I guess that's fair enough. I was surprised to hear he actually told you his real name."

"You're full of _shit_ ," Craig found his heart pounding in his chest, "S-So _what_ if I used to have magic? I don't use it. I'm still just a nobody. _None_ of this is relevant. I'm just here for a mission."

"Sure you are," he smirked, "But not for the one you're trying to insist you are."

"And what does that mean?"

"You have a mission all right," Stan rolled his eyes, "To steal the Stick of Truth to save to your friend Clyde."

The pounding in Craig's chest stopped. "What did you just say?"

"We know all about it, Craig," Kyle explained, "How stupid do you think we are?"

"Craig, what are they talking about?" Tweek asked slowly and carefully.

"Th-They're full of shit," Craig shook his head, "Don't listen to them."

"Is _that_ what you meant by-?"

"Don't worry about it for now, Tweek," Kyle said in a reassuring voice, "Besides, we're running late."

"Late?" Craig asked.

"There's someone who has been waiting for you."

The walk back to the city was incredibly awkward. It was mostly in silence, though elves who noticed the King would frequently bow out of respect. Tweek didn't so much as look at him. He didn't seem _angry_ just...hurt? Maybe? It was incredibly hard for Craig to tell.

Still, that was _far_ from being Craig's biggest concern at the moment.

They knew.

They knew _everything_.

It didn't make sense. Craig of Sundorham was by all accounts _dead_. There were no records of him to be found. He had assumed a new name, Feldspar, and lived with it for all these years. Even if they _did_ know it was him, how did they know about his _magic_?

How did they know about Clyde? How did they know what they were planning on doing?

Still, the panic subsided and grew into a more uncomfortable anxiety. If they knew, even _with_ Tweek, why did they allow him to sleep at the palace? Those were serious crimes he was attempting, by all accounts they should have executed him immediately. Not _this_.

No, they didn't know _everything_. They couldn't. They knew about the _Wizard's_ plan. Not Craig's real one. Not Clyde. They didn't know anything about that. Being manipulated by the Wizard was one thing, but if they knew his plans with the Dark Kingdom, there was _no way_ they'd treat him like this.

Craig was only half aware that they were not heading directly to the palace. Rather, they began heading towards another tall building, one with spires that wrapped around and a large balcony that attached across the sky to other likewise impossibly tall buildings.

The elven guards formally greeted King Kyle as he allowed the small party. Almost immediately there was a large staircase.

"We'll all wait here," Kyle announced, "Craig will go alone."

"Why alone?" he asked, "Is this some trap?"

"It isn't," he assured him, "It's just best for you to go alone, I think."

"Al-Alright," he nodded. He still didn't like nor trust this, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter. With a deep breath and trying to ignore looking at Tweek at all, he took a deep breath and began to head up the long staircase.

It was probably a little taller than the tower he climbed to get to Princess Kenny. He never understood why they'd make towers so tall, they were only ever a pain to get up. If someone wanted to meet him so badly, why didn't they just come down? Why make him go up? It was annoying. Why didn't they tell him who it was? Was it because they knew if he knew it was someone boring, he'd never do it? That asshole elf king probably stayed behind because he didn't want to climb the stairs himself.

Still, albeit legs growing sore, he finally did manage to make it to the top. After catching his breath slightly, he swung open the door at the top of the tower, instantly feeling the strongest gust of wind yet. He sure hoped this balcony was stable. With a sigh, he stepped out, looking to see who was waiting for him.

It was a girl. She had her back faced towards him as she leaned on the side, looking off into the distance. She had a goregeous High Elven light blue dress on that swept to the floor. It was simple, yet very clearly of the highest quality. Her red hair swept back into an intricate braided bun pinned to the back of her head with jeweled hairpins.

"Hello?" Craig called out. The girl jumped, clearly having not heard him open the door. Slowly, she straightened and turned around, slowly making her face visible.

Not a girl, but a young woman. One with clear skin, dazzling blue eyes, and-

No. No no no no no. It couldn't be.

"Hello Craig," she smiled softly, "Long time no see."

"No," he shook his head, "No. This isn't real. This isn't possible."

"Well, obviously it is," she laughed an all too familiar laugh that caused all the heat in Craig's body to fade away, replaced by a cold tingling feeling.

"This is a trick," he shook his head, feeling dampness form into his eyes, "The cruelest fucking trick anyone has ever done."

"It's not a trick," she chuckled, "It's really me."

"ButI was _there!_ I saw-I saw...You're _dead_!"

With a sad smile she held out her hands and took off one of her silk white gloves and placed it in a pocket in her dress. Slowly, she walked over to a lit torch and stopped, reaching her hand up to a magical blue flame.

"Hey _don't_ -"

Before he could finish, she stuck her right hand into the flame. A The edge of her sleeve instantly descentigrated away, charring to the floor. After a few moments, she pulled her hand away and lightly tapped the remaining cinders on her clothes with her free hand. But more importantly, she walked back over to Craig, right hand reaching out to him. Instinctually, he reached out to touch it.

It was completely unscathed. It wasn't even warm to the touch.

"Back then," she smiled, "You didn't even know what you did."

"What are you saying?" he said through a cracked voice, shaking his head slowly from disbelief. His entire body felt like it was trembling, and he could barely even see her through the wetness in his eyes.

"All those years ago," she reached her hand up to his face, thumb lightly brushing away a tear that had begun to run down his face, "You made me fireproof."

He couldn't hold it back anymore. He couldn't help but feel like a river was rushing down his face from his eyes. Nor could he control himself as he wrapped his arms around her into an uncomfortably tight hug, sobbing into her shoulder. He could hear her laugh lovingly as she gently placed her hands on his back.

" _Patricia_."


End file.
